EVERY BREATH YOU TAKE -PART NINE-
by Starskylicious
Summary: A story of silence, hurt, love and redemption with a glimpse of hope and a promise of a future.


**ACT 44 \- THE REUNION -**

_Since you've gone, I've been lost without a trace_

_I dream at night, I can only see your face_

_I look around but it's you I can't replace_

_I feel so cold and I long for your embrace_

_I keep calling baby, baby please..._

"Please Huggy, please. Turn off that radio."

"Hey, what's wrong with it?"

"It's that song… I hate it."

"Hey! That's last year's hit from 'The Police' that band from England. What about it?"

Sam, Dobey, and Huggy were at The Pits. It was Saturday morning.

They were waiting for Hutch. He was going to go and pick them up, but it seemed that the man was yet again late. Hutch was different, after everything that had happened. Sometimes his friends missed the old Hutch; the neat one, the unerring one, the correct one but those times were gone, and now the flaxen-haired man was only existing, barely.

"Sam, something's wrong?" The Captain realized that the doctor got lost in one memory. "Sam, hey! You tell me, my favorite headshrinker, what's wrong with that song?" Huggy insisted; the doctor had become pensive, suddenly. They both asked him with their eyes again.

"Nothing. It just, it reminded me of Starsky."

"I see. But that's still good! Why the blue mug then, uh?" Huggy said, contrite.

"No. It's not good. It reminded me of the first day we were told that he wouldn't recover, that they gave us his diagnosis."

Huggy stayed silent, and so did the Captain. The memories of those first days were too painful for everybody to remember, he continued, "we were driving in his car up to Hope to meet Murray and Caroline and the radio - they were playing that song on the radio. I remember he sang it aloud, he even mocked about the song's name and the fact that he was going to die from cancer." Sam sighed and shook his head, "all that time ago, so far and so close. I miss our days before that day. We were complete." he took a sip from his cup of coffee.

"Let those sad memories dwell in the past where they belong, okay?" Huggy offered and winked.

"Yeah, I guess that you're right. We must move on. We must remember Starsky, what he means to us and the way we were, the good times we have had together… there's no need to remember those unhappy moments," Sam shrugged and smiled gloomily at the happy memories.

"That's the spirit, doctor, besides, look, Blondie has just parked."

**********************S&H************************

"They have let you in? At this time on a Saturday morning?"

"I've pulled out some strings. I have my resources."

The inmate laughed at the unexpected visit.

"So what? You came here to see me or just to bring me some good news?"

"News, yes. I thought that it would be better for you if I were the one who came here to tell them to you, though they are not so good I guess."

The visitor with the heavy glasses had developed a weird affection for this particular client and an irrepressible tendency to protect him. He didn't know what it was; if it was empathy, curiosity or disgust. Seemingly, nothing of this man could have been significant for him, except for the fact that the helpless soul was capable of going to any lengths to get what he wanted.

And that appealed to him.

His client played, with heart and soul for what he wanted to get.

The man in the three-piece suit admired the man's courage, which for others was closer to insanity. He would have loved to have that same bravery or maybe that passion for any given subject, instead of it, the lawyer with the heavy glasses felt dried inside.

His only purpose was money.

"What happened?" Parry asked worriedly.

"I want you to stay calm and don't freak out, but our man in Metro called me two days ago; I couldn't make it here before." The lawyer made an awkward silence and grimaced. "I'm sorry to tell you, but at this time I think that he's already dead."

"You mean what? Is he dead?" the Welsh said harrowingly.

"I'm sure you can bet on that. He was so sick; his partner was so distraught that he couldn't stay in one piece on Wednesday morning when he went to the Precinct. My man from Metro called me; he told me this on Wednesday night. I thought that it would be better for you if I were the one whom you heard this from for the first time."

"Wednesday night? That's two days ago for Christ's Sake. Why did you wait that long to come and tell me?"

"I was just gathering my strength to face you. I know that this was going to hurt you."

The man bereft of his freedom stayed aloof. "Yeah," he couldn't raise his eyes off from the floor, his eyes were like two pools full of water. "It makes me very sad."

"You know that it was gonna happen sooner or later, you still had any hope?"

"No, not hope, maybe it was just longing," he waited for a few seconds to recollect his feelings and added, " or maybe that's not that either. You know, death saddens me because I feel like dying from the very first day I was born, and I thought that he could be the only one who could give me birth; anyway, it didn't work and seems like it's over now." Parry shrugged lifelessly.

"But if you cared for him or you loved him, you must know that he's better this way. My informant said that every cop was really devastated, they said that he had suffered a hell of a lot at the end. That's not fair, the way he was suffering I mean, nor anything you can call life either, isn't it?"

Madoc laughed ironically, "You paint a pretty picture about the dying thing, Wells, but you know, dying is not romantic nor is liberating. Death is not; it is not anything. It is the absence of the presence, an empty space. It's the silence, the lack of color. It's to stop; to hurt not for a while but forever. It's a subtract, a lost, and it's oblivion. It's not a game… It's endless and final and I hate that he has died."

There was a trace of bitterness in the air, a sense of despondency, of emptiness and loss.

"But I just don't understand you, I mean you would have killed him either way if not had been for the Police, so?" the lawyer shook his head. He was confused.

"So? You should ask! I haven't seen him die. He's gone alone!" he said flustered. "Something fascinates me about seeing my loved ones die and it had to be him... Oh no! Only him! I don't like him leaving so drastically. The deaths that I have provoked and triggered weren't so drastic; there was a long and slow passing that I have so always enjoyed witnessing; to see how the mind started to slow down; the body too, how it departed with its last breath. I would have loved to be his last thought before his passing. Neither I've been there. Death is a road that I like to prepare. I hate that he had gone in such a sudden and unexpected moment and without me."

Jonathan Wells listened to those words and felt flabbergasted by the complete sense of hatred and loss that the shorter man was experiencing. He had gone to the Prison, early on Saturday morning to tell Parry the state in which Hutchinson was, past Wednesday. Dryden had called him.

"I'm sorry," the lawyer barely managed to say, despondent.

"What? Why are you so sorry for? You don't understand." Parry, who looked seemingly devastated changed his face once again. Now he seemed satisfied and hopeful and eager to enjoy the next step. "I'll soon be there, just right beside him. You know Riley's Poem? 'Think of him still as the same. I say. He is not dead, he is just away'." The shorter man stood and greeted him goodbye. "Thanks for coming. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship."

*********************S&H**********************

Hutch entered the Bar. He found his friends were gossiping and smiling.

Quite a nice picture to see.

"Yeah… and that time at the park?" Huggy was so excited while telling the funniest stories that he could barely find his breath while he was speaking. "My Lord! Starsky, my man, he tried to catch a bee that had landed on his knee with his bare hands! The result? He got a big and painful bite in his palm! And he pretended to be a mature adult, boy! He could be a jerk sometimes."

Hutch had just arrived in the box that he usually shared with his partner. He closed his eyes and started nodding, he smiled sadly remembering. His eyes were wet, just couldn't help it.

"How are you doing Hutch?" Dobey asked the blond-haired man.

He shrugged and sighed. "I'm holding my own."

"It's early yet, come on, sit down, we were just making whoopee here," Sam said.

"You remember him, Hutch?" Huggy laughed, he was in an emotional spree, indulging himself in going from the happiest emotions to the most tender ones while he recalled the best moments he had shared with his friends. He motioned Hutch to take a seat, so the blond-haired man did. "I had settled the whole stage," the thin black man went on explaining theatrically to the rest, "to encourage him after his nearly 'beheading' at the hands of that demented woman, remember? Picnic and all. We'd been talking about the low level of his biorhythm because he was in a triple-zero phase… well, that regarding the prediction of the 'astrological biorhythm calculator' had made about him" the ineffable said pompously and stopped to catch his breath. "Hutch had won a match of pool over him just a week before, because of the prediction the silly machine had done and then he just …" he signaled to the blond man while talking. Huggy laughed amused in earnest, he couldn't catch his breath "Oh! Do you remember, Hutch? How we loved to tease him, yeah; and he loved it too!" he said pensively.

"That was the game we liked to play the best" the blond smiled regretfully and got lost in a reverie.

"Starsky, my man could be pretty mystical sometimes too." Huggy finished shaking his head.

They stayed silent, lost in their memories. Hutch sipped a glass of OJ. He was having breakfast.

"Mystical? Boy! Do you remember the time you sold him one of those magic rocks at Nellie's? He named it a 'lifelong member of his family'! Remember? The one he used with Fargo, Hutch? I remember that the little poor thing even saved his life! That was weird!" Dobey added.

"Yep…" Hutch barely could keep up with the rest, he sounded much moved, and the moment was very touching.

Dobey couldn't help but caressed his arm and whispered to him, "Come on, son, everything's gonna be all right, you'll see." He tried to encourage him.

"Yeah… Yeah, yeah. It's okay, Cap," the blond nodded trying to gather his feelings and sighed.

Dobey continued attempting to hide the sorrow too; he recalled yet another anecdote.

"Anyway, what I'm always gonna remember is when he printed those bogus business cards with my extension number in it offering my services as a piping engineer!" their laughter now was uncontrolled. "He was so playful. I was the chump of the Station for a while just like when he rigged the candy machine with that buzzer." Dobey scrubbed his eyes, almost crying from emotion. They all laughed even louder. "Boy, and that other time with the toilet? He bought a toilet for Christmas and deposited it in the middle of my desk at the Station with a large red gift ribbon wrapping it. He was always cracking jokes and acting cool!" The Captain shook his head; the primary recipient of those stories was Sam although they were all jubilant to recall the good old days. "Oh! And I almost forgot, what about his fake chinchilla? You sure had nothing to do with that, Huggy?" Dobey asked, and the thin black man denied his participation and hurriedly said.

"Non, mon Capitaine! I swear God, I had nothing to do with that. I refuse to take any responsibility for it."

"Oh, sure…" the surly man made a gesture of disbelief "yeah, anyway… What was its name? Uh?" the captain rolled his eyes, thinking "Louise? Yeah! Louise! You know Sam, he paid a heap of bucks just for a big, fat rat. Oh, Starsky!"

There was a long, baffling silence again. All of them shook their heads at the memories. The funniest and lovely moments in their lives had happened while Starsky was around. Now it was time for Hutch to speak, and he said, "Starsky might be innocent sometimes and childish but, he was such a man, my friend, he - he was quite a contradiction. Yeah." he finished speaking lovingly.

They all noticed how forlorn and despondent Hutch had become. Suddenly, it seemed like the better the memories, the deeper the blues, and they couldn't afford the luxury to start the new day in that kind of mood. Besides, the purpose of the silly conversation had been quite different. Huggy decided that it was time to change the angle drastically, so he chose to provoke a different reaction, irritating the blond cop with his partner's old antics.

"Hey, you! Cheer you up, ok?" Huggy said sounding amused and trying to lighten the mood. "Uhm, hey Anita, c' mere! C'mere baby. Let's entertain us, we're talking about Starsky here. Bet you can explain to us his best features!" he said while winked his eye at the woman, and she realized.

"Oh yeah! I can be eloquent, loquacious, and even verbose on that particular subject. I tend to be a very meticulous person when it comes to such things." She also winked her eye to Hutch, who was scrubbing his, filled with emotion. "You guys, don't tell me that you don't remember that other little thing that we never but never are gonna forget about him?"

Hutch shook his head. He didn't know. His soul was lost in his swirly memories. Sam and Dobey shared their looks, staring at themselves, wondering, trying to understand until Huggy said, "And what that would be, Anita?"

"You know damned well which ones, don't you?" she said intriguingly.

The air was getting heavy and thick. The tension was palpable. Hutch was a bundle of nerves still distracted, and he was starting to get increasingly anxious, Huggy noticed and tried to humor the things up since the blond was so out of it to notice. They all bet that the blonde-haired man could be carried away by the most special, unique and memorable feature of his friend, and that was the purpose.

To make him forget the worst of times.

"Well, honey, you didn't realize that we're a bunch of straight and macho men here, to ever have noticed about those assets you are so fond of?" Huggy stood up flamboyantly.

"See, now you're jealous! of course, you know damn well what I'm talking about. His _assets_ were very noticeable!" she said amusingly.

"What are you talking?" Hutch asked, confusedly again and lost in the memories.

"It's nothing! Anita here, Hutch! Damn girl. While we remember some of the best moments of our lives, fondly, she already has to ruin everything, obsessively. We all know what you mean, but he wasn't our type in case you haven't noticed…" he finished boastfully and putting both his hands on his lapel.

"What?" added Hutch again, distractedly.

Sam followed suit and tried to get Hutch's attention, he winked, "Oh, yeah! I know what you mean. His quirk and specialty! That devilish swagger that he liked to prance with all over the Precinct." Sam suggested, roguishly. "I remember the long queue of girls waiting for him to show up in the Hallways of the Station just to see him strut his jeans." Hutch rolled his eyes and nodded. All traces of sadness were gone. The men laughed at the many moments together enjoying their singleness "I mean, when it comes to women, hey! nobody like him, isn't it?" Sam said.

"No, nobody's like him. But I don't miss that! I may still happily benefit from his presence in the future when he recovers. Yeah, when it comes to women, my buddy's something else!" The blond added, proud of his partner's charm.

"Well, that until Cary, at least." Sam finished, reflexively.

"And Cary's gonna kill me if I don't make it on time to the hospital right now." He stood, "Dudes, I appreciate your good moods here, but I have work to do. If you wanna come with me and catch up with my buddy, this is the right time to do it. I better go and sit with him, otherwise, his lady's gonna kill me. She's got to go to her appointment with her obstetrician."

It worked since Hutch looked less bereaved… and more active.

Upon his arrival at the Pits, after had gone to his place to sleep and change some clothes, he enjoyed the time talking to his friends and remembering the good old days. He offered them to pick them up and visit Starsky in the Hospital too.

Starsky, whom he was going to nurse all day and during Saturday night too.

Hutch was anxious to have this time together.

It had been a while...

********************S&H**********************

The man with the three-piece suit left the Prison almost immediately.

He felt disgusted. Revulsion and fear were not enough adjectives to define how he felt. He didn't know the reason he felt so attracted to this psychopath. There wasn't any doubt for him that that was what Parry was. He was a damned lunatic, no matter what the Court might have sentenced. "_Or wasn't he? Or Parry was perhaps his equal?" _Sometimes, Wells felt he was prone to humiliate, mistreat and even belittle someone who was a subordinate too in the same way in which the Welsh did. Sometimes he also felt that he could be easily mastered by someone who was in a higher position than his. He also knew that everything that dwelt in his own mind was revenge and hatred, just like in the assassin's case.

He felt nauseated.

He realized that the only difference between his client and him was that he could never attack anyone physically, but not because of remorse or a sense of integrity and righteousness.

No.

The difference between Parry and him was that he was just a coward.

He felt very disgruntled of being so notably similar to his client. That's why he concluded, he was so fond of him. The lawyer went straight to his Office in downtown Bay City. He knew that there wouldn't be anyone there.

Since his meeting with Parry, Jonathan Wells had been feeling sick of everything. He was disgusted with himself, for being attracted to that monster. He wanted to slow down, forget about everything, think about what to do next and clear his mind. However, three hours after he had arrived, he received another phone call from his man in Metro.

Fate put him again on the old path, and he had to call his client back again.

Dryden's phone call had been a signal.

"I'm sorry, I've been misinformed. He Is Not Dead," Wells told Parry.

********************S&H*********************

The brunet slept well during all Saturday night, comfortably. They had watched TV and talked about the decision made by the Supreme Court regarding the use of video recorders and the private taping of TV programs for private amusement. After that precedent, the practice would not violate Federal copyright. "_Hey, that sounds great." _Starsky had said. "_I can record all the Bela Lugosi's movies and watch them over and over again anytime."_

The issue and the moment had been weird and very Starsky like, but homely.

On Sunday morning, Hutch went for a jog to the Hospital yard, and he felt superb to have some time to himself finally.

Hope was a beautiful place, believe it or not.

Hope was a beautiful sentiment. "_To believe in hope."_

Besides, Starsky was getting better and better.

His friend was still making remarkable progress and looked fantastic. Since he felt this good and Murray had allowed him, after jogging, Hutch went to the Hospital hallways straight to the vending machines, and he picked up the fattest peanut butter candy bar that he could have found for his buddy. Starsky had said he would try some morsels after lunch. Hutch didn't know the real meaning hidden behind the candy bar neither he suspected the old story of Michael Starsky or the mighty strength of dextrose, but he was pleased that the brunet might be able to eat something that had lots of calories in it. His partner was still drinking small glasses of milk since Thursday when he had started recovering, so the reappearance of his appetite and the candy bar were little good news.

They did the same routine on Monday.

Huggy had just arrived at Starsky's room that Monday afternoon. He couldn't believe what he saw either.

"Starsky, my man you look wholesome, much better than Saturday."

"I'm a work in progress, Hug." The dark-haired man said amusingly, and they all laughed, he continued, "Nah, Blondie here. He picked the sweetest peanut butter candy bar he could find, and I've just eaten it, that's why." Starsky smiled, winked and roll his eyes fully recovered.

"You should ask! I would have brought you the smoothest homemade hors d'oeuvres for you," Huggy put on airs, "Anita would have been delighted to contribute to your welfare."

"Hug, he's just recovering, he can't eat anything fatty!" Hutch hastened to say.

"Hey, I won't ruin his recovery Blondie, don't freak out."

Starsky was amused; this teasing he longed for was just fantastic. But it was evident, on the other hand, that the same frolic seemed to rip Hutch's heart in two. After their casual teasing and banter, Hutch started feeling depressed. He couldn't stand being there as if nothing was going on. Those were the kind of situations that brought too many memories to him; the three of them together and reveling themselves was too much pain to take. He decided to leave the room. He wasn't strong enough to endure those ordinary moments.

"I'll be right back."

"Hey, where you going?" Starsky asked, but there wasn't any response.

Hutch stormed into Caroline, who was entering the room as he left. "What's wrong with him?" she asked Starsky and Huggy while she entered the room.

They both shrugged.

Hutch went running to the yard. He ran and ran.

Until he couldn't run anymore.

He was tired and short of breathing. He needed to vent. Those moments again haunted him. Those kinds of moments he was so sure he would remember in the future when they were still going to be here joking and remembering their lives together.

All of them except Starsky.

It was quite upsetting for him.

He always knew good things must come to an end. He hated having that certainty, but he couldn't accept that with Starsky, not with his life with Starsky.

He felt sad as if a wave of pain had crashed over him and needed to get away before anyone could realize the way he was starting to feel; that he had begun to think about in the same things that he had already considered before Starsky started getting better. That dreadful sensation that everything might be finishing. That they were not going to be together maybe tomorrow, that perhaps the next time that they would be all laughing and joking and teasing each other, Starsky would no longer be there with them.

He just couldn't imagine such pain. Much pain.

The suffering to know that everything was coming to an end, that they were losing their battle to cancer. The realization that something was going to happen and soon. He felt it. Something was going to happen and soon.

He took some time, gathered his feelings.

It didn't seem fair that he had disappeared; he thought that he had to be strong for Starsky. One more time.

And Hutch came back.

When Hutch got back to his partner's room again, the brunet was talking to Cary and Huggy. He was in good spirits though the subject they were discussing gave Hutch and everybody else the chills. Anyway, they were all listening to him.

Listening to him, indeed.

"Sometimes I wonder about the big day, the day of my journey, how it'll be like. Will it be sunny or rainy? I'm sure it'll be in winter or maybe in spring. You didn't think about it?" Starsky had an attentive audience, didn't fly a fly. He spoke very calmly and with simplicity and acceptance. He was serene and the worst of all, he looked ready.

Hutch was standing at the door frame with his hand still on the knob and the door ajar and staring at the floor. He didn't dare to enter, couldn't do it, he couldn't accept it.

He couldn't make it inside the room to hearing such things his friend was saying...

"The other day, I just thought that I would like to die on the twenty-ninth day of February, so that way my anniversary would come only once every four years," he smiled ironically. "That way my first anniversary won't happen until it's four years old. I want to be a 'death's leaper.'" He winked towards Caroline. "No pun intended" he finished.

She shook her head disbelieving what he had just said "Dave, that's not funny!" she was dazed, so she said aggravated.

"Starsky, my man, you're weird." Huggy snorted. "You rather better be a 'death's skipper,' than a 'death's leaper,' buddy." He finished saying and winked his eye that was full in tears too.

Hutch closed his eyes in disgust. He could not believe what he was hearing.

"Good Morning, gentlemen. Caroline."

Everybody turned their heads to where Hutch was still standing. The flaxen-haired man opened the door dejectedly and stepped aside allowing Drs. Murray and Garrahan to entering the room.

He froze in place.

"Hi," Hutch's trembling voice came loud. He rasped his throat. "Something's wrong?"

"No, nothing's wrong, Hutch," Murray and Garrahan smiled a reassuring smile, "but we need to talk to you and Carol, please?"

Hutch was terrified, the last time he had spoken to the doctors; they said that Starsky had 'weeks' left so, what would it be now?

"Sure, of course. Cary?" He said anxious and signaled to her, to get out.

"Yes, Hutch, I'm coming too. Okay. You stay with him, Hug?" she looked at Huggy, she was also scared.

"Don't be in despair... that here stays the Bear," the man said with his flourished manners, "C' mon, Starsky! Betcha can't win a hand over me, " and he took the cards from the bedside table and began to shuffle.

"We'll be here in a minute," she said and kissed her husband on the head.

Starsky nodded listlessly at his wife and his friend.

"Hey," she winked at him and kissed him again.

The dark-haired man nodded and smiled at her and Hutch, as they got out of the room.

**********************S&H********************

They went to the private room, where doctors usually spoke with relatives.

"Make yourselves comfortable. You want something to drink?" John Murray said.

"Thanks, but no." Hutch hastened, he was hysteric. He was indeed uncomfortable and wanted the reunion to end even before having started. "Why don't we get down to business, Doc? What is it?" he was desperate and rubbed his hands nervously.

"Yeah, what's going on?" Caroline also asked, concerned.

The doctor took a mouthful of air and waited for a second to start talking again.

"A miracle," Murray said straight.

That was all it took to them to change their faces.

"What?" They both said.

"I said it's a miracle." John Murray smiled satisfied and happy. He was a man of faith; there was no doubt about it. "Goodman warned me before, about David but yet…" he shook his head in a mix of emotion and disbelief, "The tumors in his lung have disappeared. Both of them. That's it!"

"Oh, My God! Oh, I love him, Oh!. Hutch, you hear him?" Caroline said, and she hugged him.

Hutch was speechless and astonished.

"We couldn't believe our eyes at first when we saw his lab tests, before the clot's episode ten days ago." Murray continued explaining and sharing the information he had voluntarily withheld before. "After his last rounds of chemo when we suspended the Carboplatin before Christmas, surprisingly, the last Scan came back clearer." the doctor shrugged.

"When we received the results from Hopkins, we couldn't believe them either, so we confirmed them in Cedars-Sinai too and there it was the same result! His lungs are clean!" Garrahan also said thrilled.

The doctors made a long pause, giving Hutch and Caroline enough time to gather their feelings. "That's all." Murray finished.

He had no other explanation. At least not a scientific explanation.

Hutch and Caroline were in ecstasy, they didn't know how to react. After some minutes in which they could only look at each other in silence, Caroline asked, suddenly, "And what about his liver," still Hutch couldn't say a word.

"Well, he still has metastasis in the liver, two spots actually, but the most important thing is that the central mass in his right lung that was inoperable has disappeared. The tumors have disappeared, Carol. And since this is lung cancer, and the Cisplatin has made such significant progress, we think that the tumors in the liver will be quickly eliminated. The antibiotics worked; he beat pneumonia, and everything's gonna be okay."

"Oh!" She broke again and hugged John, "Oh, John! Thank you!"

They hugged; they were both happy. "You don't have to thank me," the doctor made a pause "it's up to him!" and he looked at the sky.

She hugged him even stronger and tighter. She felt sheer bliss and joy at that moment; as if her body could no longer contain her soul. She felt as if she was a chrysalis, in a cocoon and she could not get it opened nor collect her thoughts.

Her mind was a blur.

She could only see snapshots of her future. Dave and their baby, walking barefoot on the shore heading toward her and their luminous and bright future.

There was going to be a future.

For a few minutes, she remained static, like everybody else; until Hutch regained his faculties and said, for the first time, on the spur of the moment. "You mean that he's in remission?" As far as everybody could tell, her elation was only matched by Hutch's rapture, to such extent that he could barely utter a few words.

"No, not yet. Remission isn't the correct name to pronounce at the moment, Hutch. In fact, at this point, he's living with a chronic illness that he's got to keep a constant watch on. Maybe after a year, without recurrence, we might talk about remission. The fact is that, for now, the lung's clear, and his primary cancer's gone, you see?" Murray showed them the CT Scan "the right side, here, is mere scar tissue from surgery, but the malignant mass is gone…"

"And the liver?" Suddenly, Hutch had started to ask questions.

"Well, as I said, Hutch; the Pet Scan showed that, right now, there's only metastasis in the liver." the younger doctor said.

"And what are we gonna do?" Hutch continued asking, worried; Caroline was in Murray's arms, still unable to put things together. At this point in the conversation, she didn't care about anything else but the images that crossed her mind and beautified her thinking. In fact, she was barely listening until the doctors started talking again about the next medical procedures.

"Well, we're gonna perform a Hepatic Artery Infusion," Garrahan answered to the blond-haired cop.

"Oh, come on Charlie! The body can only withstand so much! He could not stand another surgery now! It's very dangerous" she said all of a sudden. She ejected from Murray's arms, literally. He was in complete disagreement.

"Calm down, Carol. Fortunately, he has already lost his gallbladder in the murder attempt back in '79 as a result of what there won't be any need to open his abdomen. Do you remember? And yes, what you are thinking is just right, this is a pretty good outlook at the moment since, on the bright side, surgery won't be necessary. So we're gonna perform only a percutaneous catheterization of the femoral artery and give him with Irinotecan, which is a new drug specifically designed for liver cancer." Garrahan said reassuringly, seemed like they had everything covered.

However, Caroline frowned and separated from John again, "But, Charlie! The FDA hasn't approved Irinotecan yet," she said.

"No, it's not, but it has shown good effects in patients in Europe. So we'll take that risk. This cutting-edge chemo is the last resource that we have to try to heal him." Charlie finished saying to a not so convinced Caroline. Hutch only limited to look at their faces without saying a word because since he wasn't up to discuss the medical aspects of the conversation, he had been mostly left out of it.

"And, since his blood work is excellent, and cisplatin has been a success, we're gonna deal with it. The next thing we'll do is give him small doses in daily supplies until mid-April." Murray ended.

Regardless of Caroline fears and Hutch's ignorance and their doubts, they nodded; seemed like the doctors' got everything covered. "We'll need David's consent, and if it that happens, we're gonna pump the drug in single doses periodically on the 3rd, 7th, and 11th February. I mean we'll restart chemo, first combined Cisplatin and Methotrexate. We have to be even more aggressive than before. Seems like it has worked." Garrahan added.

"That's too much," Hutch said concernedly.

"It is, we know that it's gonna be an exhausting fortnight, but we have to make a move as soon as possible," the young doctor said.

"He should be hospitalized?" Hutch asked.

"No, he won't be. The direct application of the drug in the liver can be done at home."

"So there wouldn't be any awful reactions to it this time?" Hutch asked enthusiastically.

"Oh no, there still will be. However, usually, the unbearable side-effects of the chemotherapy are minimized with this kind of administration. And at the same time, it allows us to give David higher doses, in a shorter time, which is exactly what we need now."

"And what about radiation?" Cary said.

"Oh yeah, totally forgot! Radiation starting tomorrow."

"What?" Now the blond was scared.

"Well, we have to give him PCI radiation to his brain as a precautionary move. It can be possible that pieces of cancer might hide in the brain. Usually, that's the way SCLC works in the state he is. Sometimes metastasis in the brain appears when they are already too late to treat them so we have to take this precautionary measure to avoid that they might get larger if that's the case. So we're gonna apply radiation to the brain, taking care in advance and then straight to the liver. You know Cary."

She nodded.

"He'll hurt?" Hutch asked, embarrassed and ashamed. He hated to put his friend in that position again as if it was his responsibility.

"Well, let's just said that he's got one difficult month ahead, but if everything's all right, he'll recover."

Hutch gave, for the first time, a sign of relief and a little smile; full of tears he raised his eyebrows to Cary, who run into his arms, hugging him again.

"Oh, I'm so happy! I wanna go and tell Dave" she was delighted.

"You can sure be happy, Carol. But now we have to give him the news with much caution. He can't overdo it; he shouldn't get stressed. He must take it slow." John advised.

"Oh yeah! Knowing Starsky the way I know him, as good as this is… it still scares me. I mean he's gonna overdo it! You can count on that for sure." Hutch said knowingly. There was a long silence; they were all trying to find the best strategy, not to ruin the brunet's recovery. However, Hutch continued and predicted without hesitation "the moment you tell him that the tumors have disappeared he's gonna try to be reinstated. He'll have a way to go to be back in the Force, gladly and…"

"And if he does, he's gonna end up back in the Hospital. NO! We won't allow him to get back to work, Hutch. You don't have to worry, not until cancer might be undoubtedly gone from his liver tissue, and even after that. He has to take it slow." Garrahan finished saying.

"Of course. We can be elated, but we must remain realistic. It is stage four SCLC, and he still has cancer. Period. It is hardly possible to go into remission, and there's no cure. He'll be a chronic patient, at least, for one more year and even after that." Murray was strict.

"But he could have gone the other way, John, and never responded to treatment, yet he did. His body did." Cary said thankfully.

"Yes, that's also true, but we have to be careful."

They all nodded and went to Starsky's room.

**********************S&H*************************

They waited for Huggy to leave.

Though it would have been fantastic for the lifelong friend to listen to the good news, the moment didn't stand many witnesses. Murray, Cary, and Hutch were enough and the necessary, and for so many different circumstances, each one of them. The news, as the doctors had warned them, should be delivered with extreme caution and quietness.

So everyone took their places around the sick man.

Cary sat by Starsky's left side and passed her left arm over his belly, facing him.

Hutch stood at his feet with both hands clinging to the footboard of the bed and looking at him with a glimmer of happiness that he could hardly hide.

Starsky realized. "What? What happened?" he asked him.

Hutch winked.

"David," Murray was standing to his right side and started talking solemnly, "Are you feeling better, aren't you.?"

"Yes, I am," Starsky's eyes traveled from Hutch to Cary to Murray, without stopping.

"And what about your lungs and your respiratory work, how does it feel?" the doc said.

Starsky frowned. Murray asked again. "I mean how's your breathing doing now?"

"Well, it's much easier, pretty good I'd say, but I know that since I'm having this..." He raised his right arm with the IV inserted in it, shrugged and looked at it.

"We ain't giving you anything to ease your breathing, currently. Did you know that?"

"What? No steroids or… bronchodilators?"

Murray shook his head. "No."

"Neither Ventolin? Nor Albuterol?" the brunet said, confused.

"No, just antibiotics. We must end the antibiotics' supplies for pneumonia, but so far that's all that's in the vein's drill."

"Oh," Starsky said curiously… "So, what's this Committee for?"

Murray laughed, "Well, this Committee's for sharing with you some good news, David," he said naughtily.

The brunet smiled "Good news?" Starsky opened his eyes incredulously. "Unless you tell me that I'm gonna live two more months; I ain't seeing any good news to coming." He chuckled and said sarcastically.

"Oh yeah, you're right. That would be such great news, wouldn't be? Yes, maybe two more months. Maybe two more years. Perhaps whole lotta months ahead or maybe you'll be around 'till the cows come home." Murray said, rare in him, and so, the tone was set for his new reality.

Starsky frowned and searched for Hutch's eyes. His partner nodded while Cary squeezed his hand. He looked again at the indecipherable eyes of his doctor, he didn't seem to be the same man he had always been. The physician reassumed talking. "As I said David, this Committee is for giving you the best of news. Are you ready?"

Only a nod.

Dr. Murray smiled relaxed and said, "Well, I'm here to tell you that the Cisplatin has made such progress in your lungs that the tumors have disappeared. That's the reason you feel better, and this Committee is for."

"You mean… What? Come again, please." He squinted.

"I mean what I said. The tumors in your lung are gone, for now, David, but you still have the metastasis in your liver."

The brunet looked at Hutch, straight into his eyes and Hutch smiled and reciprocated.

He stayed speechless for a long time. Everybody waited for him to recover. Still dubious, he said to his friend, "This means what it means?" Hutch only nodded, thrilled, he couldn't talk, but Starsky understood. "So we beat the Grim Reaper, for now, buddy? Once again?"

Hutch nodded again.

"You were right, Hutch, again." Starsky had still his eyes on his buddy. Hutch winked while Caroline hugged him with all her force.

"Dave, you're still sick. You still have cancer, you must remember it." Caroline said.

"I won't ever forget it, honey." And he hugged her back with all his strength while he still had his eyes, full of tears, on Hutch, who started coming to the other side of his bed.

Their eyes never separated. They both knew that they had achieved it, together.

He spoke to Cary, who was clinging to his torso. "Now I can give you the family that you want Cary, now I can, and now I'm gonna do it."

Hutch started hugging him too.

And the three cried.

They explained Starsky, which ones the next steps would be. They warned him how painful radiation and the next batches of chemo were going to be, and he agreed with all those treatments, and he signed his consent to all the practices again.

For some time, they were going to forget about the deadline, at least HIS cancer's deadline.

On Monday 30th January, the doctors discharged him from Hope after two rounds of radiation in his brain. Hutch drove his friend back to the Beach House, and then, the blond went to the Precinct. On next Thursday he would start the first of three rounds of chemo. Fortunately, he wouldn't be hospitalized this time either. Hutch should inform the authorities and the Tier Committee about his partner's health condition and do the so needed paperwork.

The Starsky who had left his home that January the 13th was far different from the one who went back home seventeen days after that day, on the 30th day of January.

This new Starsky had hope and a future ahead.

***********************S&H************************

"Hutch! Hey, Hutch, I knew you would come."

Roger Babcock was pretty excited; minutes before, Dobey and Ryan had just left the Precinct in good spirits, and he was so intrigued by the last rumors that he needed some confirmations.

"Hi Babcock, why are you so jumpy?"

"Man!" he smiled "Chief Ryan came along here an hour ago searching for the Captain. He entered his office, and we've heard them laughing and shouting for more than 15 minutes. They were happy."

"So? What about it? What's the problem with happiness?" Hutch asked trying to sound disinterested.

"No problem about it, but that state of 'happiness' doesn't happen here since, let's just say six months ago at least. That wasn't happening at all lately, not even with the resounding arrests we've been making, not even with Parry!" Simmons said.

"As a result of what we wondered what would be the reason for such elation coming from the Brass and the Cap. We're Detectives, you forget?" Babcock added, mocking Hutch.

"Some Detectives you are," Hutch said and sat at his desk.

They all laughed, and the blond squinted his eyes. He started opening his drawers, rummaging and searching for something until he found it. The old blue stuffed toy Starsky used to have in his desk's drawer.

"And now you're here, playing with stuffed animals!" Simmons added.

"Yeah…" Hutch smiled. He sighed and lost his sight into the little toy.

"Hutch, come on, you tell us, please? When Chief and Dobey rushed out of the Office, I asked the Captain what had happened, and he told me that soon I was gonna find out. He said that this Homicide Division would be complete again at any time, that there wouldn't be any more empty chairs here, and he touched Starsky's. What's going on? You gonna have a new partner?" Babcock was so curious he couldn't help but ask.

Hutch closed his eyes, rejoicing in his vision of fullness. "You think that that would be possible? That I would accept anyone but him, occupying his place? Sitting in that chair, just in front of me? That I could ride shotgun in someone else's car?"

They all frowned.

"Mmhh no!" Simmons said.

"We are sure you won't, cowboy, so… what?" Babcock added.

Hutch smiled. They didn't dare to ask, and the blond rubbed his face, shaking the sadness and the old ghosts.

"You mean?" Simmons asked timidly.

"He'll be back, yeah. Maybe he won't do the streets, maybe he ain't gonna be a detective for some time, perhaps he'll never be a detective again, maybe just desk work. But he'll be back. Cancer's been almost defeated!"

They didn't understand and Hutch told them.

"Ten days ago we thought that we were going to lose him, Hutch. That's…" Babcock said thrilled.

"That's Starsky, Rog. 100% Starsky" Hutch finished proudly interrupting him.

He had a little audience at the time he announced the good news. Simmons, Babcock, Chuck Anderson, Ray Collins, and some other more fellow officers burst into laughter of tears and happiness.

As Dobey had announced, they were going to be complete again.

"So he's in remission, he'll be back?" Anderson asked.

"Not in remission yet, but he's healing for now, and I'm sure that he'll do his damn best to shorten his recovery. You know Starsky. He's a tiger."

"Damn! That dude's gutsy!" Babcock said, "I knew. He didn't surprise me a bit" he finished and smiled, happy.

At that moment, someone else was just entering the Squad.

Nobody had realized.

Nobody had realized that the man had heard everything, either.

*******************S&H*********************

He went to his office on the 8th floor and made the phone call.

"So are you sure that there's no evidence?" The lawyer sounded incredulous. He had few doubts yet, but the information the faithless and treacherous cop was providing him looked real. "_Could it be possible?"_ he wondered.

"Absolutely sure. I don't need to get any further confirmation. That's the word, 'No evidence of disease.' I've just heard it myself and with my own ears."

"Oh, good! That's great news" the man with the heavy glasses said excitedly.

"Depends on whom, but yes, I guess it is." The cop laughed, viciously, "You do your business, Wells. I just want my money and my honor back."

"That's too much to ask." The shyster considered.

"That is what he's worth, isn't he?"

The sordid man with the three-piece suit nodded, thinking. "Let me see what I can do."

"I'll be here, waiting. Hey, Johnny boy, you know that I'm always here, don't you?"

The guy with the glasses hung up the receiver.

He hated to be involved again in that kind of things, but he had no choice at all.

That was the best news someone had ever told him in his whole life, so far and he wouldn't waste it. He only needed to make two more phone calls, and the big shot could be all his.

And the money would come back in heaps.

The traitor police officer hung up, too. He knew he could always count on the insatiable attorney to quench his thirst for revenge.

"_Now it's time to harvest,"_ he thought.

And a huge smile spread across his face.

********************S&H***********************

Upon his medical discharge, on the 31st he took the last session of radiotherapy.

It had been uncomfortable enough, the worst, indeed; but then, after the good news, as Starsky liked to say, everything that was happening was better than it had been before. Incredibly.

A real walk in the park, even the strenuous pain.

He was responding to the treatment, after everything.

After seven months of chemo and hopelessness and desperation.

Life couldn't be better.

*******************S&H*********************

He had just arrived at the Beach House; Hutch had taken him there with Cary, and the house looked more beautiful than it had never been, despite how sick he felt. But, even though the contemplation, since he could barely walk he went straight to bed. He needed to get some sleep and close his eyes. The pain was indescribable.

"Are you okay? Do you feel any better?" Caroline tucked him into bed; it was cold outside, and he felt colder than anyone.

"Yeah, thanks, honey! It's just this migraine." He couldn't take his hands out of his eyes, he snorted. The light was ablaze. "It's terrible… I mean my head hurts so much, Cary, feel like it's gonna explode," he was crying in pain. The headaches after the radiotherapy session were unbearable.

After the sessions, he needed almost 24 hours of silence and darkness to recover, usually. The lesser pain and discomfort that the neuralgia brought to him were damned nausea. The worst, the dreaded feeling that something pierced his temples viciously and in the same spot, each time, carving his eyes' cavity from the inside, systematically.

His head throbbed, and it felt like drilled.

"Cary…?"

"Shh! Relax. You'll feel better in no time, but you better shut up and rest, for now, my love. Okay?" she said caressing his head.

"But please, I'm thirsty and nauseous."

"No! If you drink something, you're gonna throw up. So you don't," she lovingly explained.

"No shit," he equally lovingly interrupted her.

They smiled.

"I'm thirsty, and my head hurts a lot." he insisted.

"You shouldn't drink anything, not yet."

"But I'm telling you, please? My throat's dry and cracked. I'm so tired."

"Oh my life, please, be obedient!" She begged him; she hated seeing him suffer.

He opened his eyes slowly and gave her a little smile, "What the boss says goes, okay!" he sighed and continued "but I mean, is this really needed? I need to stop this. Oh, help!" He was going to be sick again, and she realized and helped him with the basin.

"Here, take this!" She waited for some time until he threw up.

Water and bile, just that.

"Now are you better, is it okay?"

He finished and nodded. He was trembling while Caroline kept talking. "Yes, Motek, this is necessary. And stop trying to convince me otherwise or that it should be stopped because it won't happen this time, okay? It's my way or the highway!" She scolded him.

"I've never protested. You've got me under your thumb!" he said reluctantly.

She shook her head; he could be like a spoiled brat sometimes. "You've never protested! I wouldn't have ever had to read you the riot act if you hadn't been stubborn. So behave yourself!" She preached and put a hanky dipped in cologne over his nose to prevent the bad taste in his mouth after vomit. "Come on, honey, inhale. Deep. Is this good enough?"

He nodded one more time, exhausted by the heaving. He controlled his respiration.

"Now, close your eyes and relax. I'll stay here with you," she comforted him.

He rested again on the pillows with his left hand still clutched over his eyes, while she soothed him, caressing his chest. The tremors were uncomfortable enough, and he was still trembling after some time.

"Breathe in and breathe out. Do it slowly." she encouraged him. He took deep breaths; she rubbed him and soaked his face with a cold cloth while continued talking slowly. "We have to prevent any metastasis on the brain, and then we can treat the liver properly with chemo. Short, clean and nice." She cupped his face in her hands and looked at him lovingly. "You're one awesome man, my love; my miracle, Dave. I love you so much. God loves you even more. I promise everything will be okay" She said to him, and he opened his eyes and smiled at the sight in front of him, he was feeling better indeed.

"This incredibly beautiful woman…" he thought. "You know, I can't help but feel like a little boy, always cheated by his parents. You keep making promises to me," he said.

"We never lied to you, did we?"

"No," He said like a little five years old indeed, "but there's always something else, bigger, harder, more painful, always." He sighed incredulously and tired. "It feels like this never ends, Cary, like this pain's endless."

There was a long silence, she understood him so well. "It isn't, my love. You trust me; this is the end. Today was the last session. Then you'll have February to get over it and relax. Three more batches of chemo et voilà: damn cancer will be a bad memory!" "_I hope so,"_ she thought.

"Tomorrow's February. That's one day from now, and I ain't seeing no change. You the optimist!" he tried to antagonize her.

"I have the best of teachers!" She kissed him on his nose.

Starsky yawned, he looked tired.

They were in their white room in the beach house. Outside it was chilly, but well, it was California. Even in winter as they were, it was 79°, so the weather was warm despite Starsky's feelings. Fortunately, January had no humid days either, so he filled his lungs again with all the air available.

"_How easy it is for me to breathe now. I can't believe how I lived so sick before. I've survived so sicklily for so long"_ he thought.

"What?" Cary asked him, noticing he had made a face.

"S'nothing, just thinking."

She made an accomplice gesture too, she knew that he was thinking about something, but he let him go with it. "Okay, I'll let you sleep. I'll close the blinds, all right? You call me if you need anything. You sleep tight and trust me, tomorrow, you'll feel definitely better."

He closed his eyes, and when she was starting to make herself comfortable in the recliner that was beside his bed, she heard him say, weakly. "I wonder why I have to go through this. I'm sick of this shit! I mean I could have skipped the radiotherapy indeed, couldn't I? But, of course, not. I did not... I have to taste it too!" He talked to himself and shook his head.

They both smiled with sadness, tears, resignation, and recognition.

He sighed, tiredly.

She crouched at his bedside again; she felt sorry for him.

"I'm tired, Cary! I mean is it necessary to go through such intense pain? If I have to get sick, I do really get sick, for Christ's sake! No half measures in my life but such intensity always! This hurts worse than when my wisdom tooth swelled!" He rolled his eyes and finished smiling, he pretended to make a joke of himself at the realization that his words were hurting Caroline. For anything in the world, he was going to make Cary even more worried than she already was with any more sorrow and trouble, and he realized that she was starting to feel sad. "C' mere, I'm just joking" he finally said to the girl.

But he hurt a lot.

The headaches were terrible.

*******************S&H*********************

"What do you think? You find it interesting?"

The short man from the other side of the glass stayed silent facing the unlimited, irrepressible, insatiable and avid lawyer standing still before him. The man seemed to have no inhibitory brakes nor limits. In fact, he was speechless and pleasantly surprised. "Okay, okay...," the inmate nodded and barely said.

"I thought you might like to hear the good news. In fact, you're the first - and the only one, I wanna share this with. That's why I came here soon to tell you." the shyster waited for some time, took three puffs of his Winston. "I've been informed only one hour ago."

"Oh yes! Thank you for considering me this time. I'm flattered and… yes, you know that I am, that I'll always be interested."

"That's great! So we, my friend and I, can work to your entire satisfaction if you wish", he offered.

"My satisfaction? Good. And which one would be yours?" the man behind the glass asked the one who wore the three-piece suit and the heavy glasses.

"You know me," the lawyer pretended that he was thinking. "What about two Grands."

"Well…" the shorter man chuckled "that's a huge amount of dead presidents, but if you guarantee me that it can be all set in a month's term... I'll take it. I mean, that would be really fantastic."

"Hey, listen. Take a chill pill! Though we have all the manpower at our disposal, and I don't think that there might be many other alternatives to consider, one month's term would be highly unlikely. It won't happen within a month. No way." The man with the three-piece suit and the heavy glasses said nervously.

"Hence, it won't be two Grands. Change your price."

Madoc Parry knew how to negotiate, but he was anxious, as anxious as Jonathan Wells was. The lawyer snorted flustered, "But when would you like to solve this?" he finally asked to balance his options. He wouldn't lose this chance.

"Well, you know my deadline; it hasn't changed. There's still a month's time."

"Oh, your deadline, yes. I remember. St. David's Day? So rather 29 days, not a month. It is a leap year, remember?"

"Yes. 29 days".

"But no, definitely not in a month's term, it's very dangerous. There's not enough time, and you would stay very exposed. I cannot risk you, either us. We won't be involved in any attack. Your getaway from here should be a legal one, and I couldn't even start to get the needed actions to get you out of here in such a short time. No. No way. If you wanna do it, you must redesign your plan. The price's still the same. Think about it and answer me, as soon as possible when you've decided it. You know the man is very popular." He smiled at his suggestion and started to stand up.

The short man became impatient, he couldn't think of the possibility of losing the offer either. "Stop! I've got nothing to think about. Either way, this is going to fulfill my wishes! To achieve what I have so longed." he hastened to say giving no thinking.

"Okay. Count on it! You'll have him, Mad. My take. The rest depends on you".

"Swell. And you? What about your part? You assure me that everything's gonna be clear, that it's gonna be okay? That you'll have everything ready?" now he sounded curious.

"You are gonna hire me? I respond!" the informant said, pedantically.

"I hire you."

"Two hundred?"

"Yes, two hundred," the short man said indignantly.

"Then we've got a deal."

"Good" the short man smiled. "What are we gonna do?"

"I'll come here in a few days with more details of the operation."

"Okay, but before you leave… Thank you. You know what David means to me." Mad Parry acknowledged and rose his thoughts to the sky. He was humbled.

"_Thank God for your infinite mercy."_

"Of course, I know."

*************************S&H**************************

"You sleep, my love," she said, kissing him. She was aching for him and was feeling helpless. She seemed unable to avoid her husband the bad time although she had wanted to do it, eagerly.

"Yeah, I'll try. Cary, hey…" he said barely in a whisper. She opened her eyes in a dumb question. "You sing me a song? Will Ya?"

She smiled, "Aw Dave, aw! You're so sweet my love; you really want me to?" She said. He nodded.

The phone rang and interrupted her.

She looked at the receiver and frowned.

"Please Cary, please! I can't stand it, turn down the ring volume," came Starsky's voice.

"I'll answer it, maybe it's important." She hurried to pick up the receiver that was beside his bed.

"Okay," Starsky said.

"Hello?" Caroline said in a quiet voice just trying not to disturb Starsky, and she waited for the person on the other side of the wire to speak. "Oh, yes I am! I'm Caroline Starsky, my husband's here, but he doesn't feel good at the moment, he can't speak, so if you don't mind, you rather call him later? You told me your name was?" Another pause. "Nice to meet you, Detective. I'll tell Dave, and he's gonna contact you, you said Internal Affairs, don't you? It's okay. Oh, and thanks for your kind wishes. It's so good indeed that he's doing this better. Fortunately, it seems that all begins to settle, and he's making rapid progress... he even thinks that he should be able to return to work soon, hopefully." she laughed optimistically.

The man answered.

"Oh, thank you so much, Detective. See you."

And she hung up.

She got back to Starsky who was still barely awake, hearing her conversation.

"Who was he?" Starsky asked from his bed, feeling nauseated again.

"Someone from Metro." She put the hanky over his nose again.

"You said too much; you shouldn't talk on the phone and give too many details to anyone," He mumbled behind the cloth.

"What do you mean? Don't play Detective with me!" She said a little annoyed, she didn't say anything that could have compromised their safety that was what she thought. "The man was kind, and he called from the Police Department of all places!"

"How do you know?" He opened his eyes for the first time, irritatingly.

She frowned and asked herself how did she indeed. She felt awkward. "Well, I don't know exactly, but he told me..." she shrugged.

"See? I ain't playing Detective. I'm just teaching you and reminding you that you're married to a Police Officer, and hopefully, a soon to be Homicide Detective again. I ain't no cab driver!" he smiled, and she nodded in recognition. "Cary, hey I ain't no hero, but it's a pretty dangerous job. I have enemies. You must get used to it, okay?"

"I'm sorry. You're right!"

"Right! You must learn to be less naive, that's all, babe. I love you! So tell me, who he was?"

She sighed feeling utterly stupid and said regretfully "A certain... Richard Dryden, can be? He wanted to check whether you were recovering indeed or what. He asked me to tell you that you should call the Tier people later to start your paperwork, and I told him that it's rather early for that…" He had his eyes closed; it was hard to tell whether he was listening or not, so she insisted "You heard me?"

"Yeah, I heard you. Dryden called me from the Precinct?" he opened his eyes and said surprised, "He hates me! Since when is he in charge of the personnel's matters?" He closed his eyes again tiredly.

"He told me he was from Internal Affairs; maybe Personnel fits that description?" she shrugged.

"No, it doesn't, but anyway... he still hates me. See? That's what I've been telling you." He said and sighed. He never trusted Dryden.

"I don't think so, seemed to be a kind man to me. He was profoundly moved by the news of your recovery; he told me that everybody's waiting for you at the Police Department."

"Yeah, especially he is! Forget it!" he started laughing, but a piercing pain made him grimace in pain… "Oh no!" until after a while he stayed utterly quiet and silent. Dryden's call got entirely forgotten.

"Dave?" she asked him concerned.

"Oh, Cary, how it hurts. Think I'm gonna be sick again." And he began heaving one more time.

"Oh, honey. I wish I could help you!" Caroline helped him with the basin and repeated the same movements she had done minutes before.

"It's okay," He filled his lungs. "You always help me. Talk to me."

And she started rubbing his shoulders and chest, in coaxial circles trying to take away the pain and whispered softly in his ears the words she repeated like a mantra. "You change your thoughts, and you change the world, honey. Every day in every way you're getting better and better. Every day in every way. Better and better. Whatever you desire, it'll come to you. I'm here. You're here. I love you. I'm sorry. Say kind words, think pleasant thoughts. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you."

They were like that for a long time; he seemed to relax, so she asked him. "How are you feeling?"

"Much better, but you were just about to do something for me." He opened one eye, and he seemed not to care anymore about the phone call. So didn't Caroline, too.

She smiled and shook her head, "You really want me to sing?.

He nodded, and she started singing James Taylor's song "You can close your eyes" while she lulled him to sleep.

"_It won't be long before another day, we gonna have a good time._

_And no one's gonna take that time away. You can stay as long as you like._

_So close your eyes, you can close your eyes, it's all right._

_I don't know no love songs and I can't sing the blues anymore._

_But I can sing this song and you can sing this song when I'm gone"._

"Aw Cary, I feel like I've been two and a half minutes in heaven; you killed me softly with that song," he said.

"That's another song, Motek."

He chuckled, and she caressed him, adored his face with infinite love and gave him thousands of little kisses until he fell asleep.

She stayed in awe, looking at him for a while, drunk in the miracle this man's life meant to her.

She stood, closed the blinds and turned off the lights.

And she got to sleep, until the other day too.

*********************S&H***********************

Jonathan Wells arrived at his office in downtown.

He was overjoyed.

It was late in the evening, so the building was desolated, neither his Secretary was there. He opened the door to his modern bunker slowly, and when he got near the phone, shivered and put his hand over his mouth, thinking. He stopped and started pacing around, with a grin on his face. He lit a cigarette. He poured some bourbon.

It was 8 PM, Tuesday 31st January.

He had just received the news.

And he had just delivered it to the interested man.

He ought to make another phone call. The one to whom he had already told about wasn't the only one interested. However, he was wondering if that would be the right move to make. If it would be wise. Now. Maybe he should wait for some time again, until being sure that the deadline had been forgotten and that he would have more time.

Or maybe he should wait until things would be clearer and settled, that is.

He didn't want to, or the organization, to become exposed.

He knew that the hungry and perverted inmate was urging to finish his plan, which he was anxious to do it. But he would not let his impatience could make him make a mistake. That could be irreparable.

He bit his lower lip.

He was anxious too; he needed the money.

If he waited, he would have enough time to plan everything and get the best profit from it. Hence, he would use that time in his favor. He had to plan the next step very well.

There was already too much money waiting for him, but if he made the right move, the reward would be even more attractive. Soundly appealing. He knew, he was sure that he could make the offering to be even better. He knew that if he made the right move, he would get the lifetime's trust of someone who was bigger than anybody else he ever imagined is. If he moved the right pieces, of course… though now the man was in disgrace.

It was a chess game.

However, he knew that the tycoon rather would be back again.

Anytime.

He knew that the old man was compelling enough to come back. That he had the power to guarantee that he was going to be back indeed, certainly, sooner or later.

His ex-boss was a big shot.

As big as the other one, the younger, the soon to would be the victim.

In fact, they were both big shots. _"I can kill two birds with one stone and maybe transform this little deal into an excellent and profitable business. Yeah...!"_ The man with the three-piece suit thought.

That's why he ought to make the other phone call.

He counted until ten thousand, to be sure, and then he did it. He dialed the number that he remembered by heart. It was too much a temptation not to succumb at.

"Hello?"

*********************S&H***********************

"This is the craziest idea that you have ever had in your whole life, buddy… and that's saying something." Hutch's index finger was ungovernable; seemed it moved in spasms. His owner went wild with the reckless ideas of his best friend, and his big finger was like a loaded gun at the lack of words.

Hutch was on the verge of breaking.

He knew in advance that the last news would put Starsky into an optimistic mood, and he also knew that such an attitude would turn out to be very dangerous. However, he didn't dare to imagine how far his friend could go to get what he wanted.

For what he was worth, he knew damn well, that Starsky could turn into someone unmanageable when it came to stubbornness. But then, he had gone very far, _"this is too much!"_ The blond man thought.

"Hey, I mean light duty or a part-time job or something, buddy. I can go to the Precinct, fill in forms, and make deskwork. I won't die from a heart attack or another clot just because I wield a pen. Oh, come on, Hutch!" He pouted. "I feel miserable. I'm mortally bored."

"Do a PART TIME JOB? YOU? Only in LIGHT DUTY?" Now the blond was yelling, "Arrgh! Bullshit, Starsky! The doc did stress that this is good, yes, but nowhere near has he said that this was over, buddy. Not yet, no way, boy! By all means, I won't allow you to be near Headquarters, let alone to work! Not even there, nor anywhere, no part-time! Nor nothing! For Christ's sake, Starsky, I know you so well, what are you trying to achieve? Oh, Sweet Lord, you make me very ill!"

Starsky lowered Hutch's finger putting his own hand over his. He had talked with Murray about his chances to come back to work. The Doctor had been clear enough, _"until the last spot in your liver will be eliminated, David, you won't be authorized to do anything and you might not be cleared for work either."_ The words had sunken in Starsky's mind, like poisoned daggers. But then he pretended that he hadn't heard them or worse, that they hadn't been said, so the worst of Hutch's nightmares were at the blond's threshold and just about to happen. It was lurking like a menace.

The 'old Starsky' to whom Hutch could have never been able to deny anything was back; he was attacking fiercely.

He was asking permission to get back to work.

In fact, Starsky was steadily recovering, and he was getting very, very difficult to handle.

As well, he was really anxious to get back.

After the second batch of chemo, which he had started on February 7th, the treatment had proved to be incredibly successful and so far, the spots in the liver had been shrunk by 2/3.

Also, that last spot was just the only one that was in Starsky's amazing body.

"Hutch, you should listen to me before you judge me. Gimme a chance! I feel attacked, and that's not fair. You don't even give me the opportunity to show you that I am ready! I'm serious here, I'm almost clean, buddy" he smiled satisfied "… and you have to admit it, man!" He pointed to the taller man's chest with his left finger, angrily "Like it or not!" The brunet finished.

"It's not a matter of admittance, Starsky. Whaddaya think? that I ain't happy? That I don't like it?" Hutch shook his head in disbelief. "Thank God! I have to admit it! But that doesn't change the fact that you ought to take care of yourself, please! Don't be stubborn! We've been through this same road before. You're almost clean, yes! ALMOST! The PET tests keep coming okay, but then..." Hutch let his head drop and facepalm; he felt like the moment merited it. "Buddy, you shouldn't get stressed, you shouldn't abuse your state right now if you want those exams to keep coming clean. You better recover first. You oughtta take it slow, please Starsky. Only one month ago you were..." he didn't have the nerve to finish the sentence.

"Dying? Yeah, one month ago I was fucking dead, and I wanna be fucking alive now!"

Starsky felt angry. He was longing to take the reins of his life again, to make his decisions, and Hutch's motherly mood was a setback to his plans.

"Starsk, please? Be reasonable."

"I am reasonable! You can talk to Murray, and he'll confirm you about my diagnosis." He insisted, unflinching. "I have beaten the odds, believe it or not! I'm a damn miracle, Hutch. I could make it to the Station… and…" he said,

"Hey! What's all this screaming?" Caroline was just entering the beach house. She heard the partner's shouts from the yard outside. "What's going on, Motek? Hutch?" She looked to Hutch's side and then to Starsky's in a Headmistress' fashion that she had started adopting lately when it came to the two friends.

Nothing, no answer.

They were both huffy as two wayward children, their arms crossed over their bellies... "_a sign that everything is doing well," _Caroline thought.

"S'nothing! Our friend here!" Starsky was flustered, reddish flustered. "I wanna go back to work, at least take some light-duty and he's in denial! I mean, there's a lot of people with cancer that does his job! And I don't know why I have to be any different than them" he shook his head…

"Oh! Maybe because you're a cop? Guess it's a little bit more dangerous, physically and mentally, being a cop. I mean you're exposed to many risks, maybe?" Hutch said sarcastically.

Starsky imitated him saying mockingly. "Because you are a cop, a cop… I'm not a terminal patient, not anymore; I can work. I wanna get back to the Station; I wanna talk with the Tier People and be reinstated. I mean, why not? I've already spoken with John, yesterday, isn't it honey? And he said…"

Caroline interrupted him while he was starting to explain his version of Murray's words "… and he said that you should hold your horses' squire. That you can't get back to work until next month", she made a pause "At least! Next month and that it would be still a maybe! Did you forget that? You forgot that I was there too when John talked to you? So Hutch is right, neither I nor he nor anybody else will allow you to get back to work until the end of March, okay? Okay, Motek? So stop it!"

Starsky stayed perplexed at what seemed to be for him total disloyalty, and Hutch realized, so he added laughing mischievously "Glad to hear we're on the same page!"

And he stormed out of the living room and closed the bedroom's door behind him.

Forcefully.

"Boy…" Hutch snorted and rolled his eyes. "He's like a spoiled brat sometimes!".

Anyway, they couldn't help but feel rejoiced to witness the outbreak. The old childlike Starsky was back in full swing, and as he had always been, he was utterly endearing. Caroline and Hutch froze when he reacted that way. He was mercurial, yeah! But mightily loveable, loveable as ever, and completely Starsky, if any.

And that was so damned good.

They both looked at themselves in amazement, and after a while, they erupted in one laughter of sheer happiness.

Their eyes twinkled in tears of emotion.

"_Everything's going wonderfully well, looks like too much to reality,"_ Hutch thought.

*********************S&H***********************

"This is an unexpected but extraordinarily interesting piece of news." The tall, gray-haired man made a long pause at the phone, wondering the reason the lawyer with the heavy glasses, was so anxious to share the information with him. "You really have it all confirmed?" he finished.

"Yes. My source is entirely trustworthy." Wells said sure.

"All right. And what do you expect me to do?" He kept being cautious; he wouldn't risk anything for just a little fun. At this point, there were too many things at stake.

"Well, I think that you are still a loyal man, Mr. Lancaster. You know how this works. I have this information; I can make it count. I wanna make it count. My client's more than willing to make the work by himself, and he'll do it, but I know that for you and yours this 'small work,' will also be of great interest. And I need you, so I just wanna hear the price you'll be willing to pay most definitely for this delivery. That would be all." he said intriguingly.

"You're the one who needs me, and I have to pay the price?" the man chuckled.

"So far, I'm the one who delivers the goods and well, the reward's very attractive!"

The man on the other side of the line made yet another long pause, thinking the answer.

"I'm not the one who make the decisions here; I'm afraid that you are well aware of that circumstance, that you know that." he finally said.

"I do. Of course, I do. I know exactly who's still in charge. That's why I decided to contact you. I mean, maybe you can offer your boss this… how can I name it? Er… Sweet Revenge? Yes, sweet revenge, so sweet that the mechanisms would leave your associate unscathed. I can assure that. Our target will be terminated, and your boss is not going to get involved in any way, there won't be any trace to follow."

"Are you sure of that? That there won't be any trace?"

"Have I ever betrayed our own Omertà? There won't be. Scout's honor."

Mr. Lancaster smiled satisfied but took time before answering, again. He nodded in silence and let the news sunk in his mind. He couldn't take on his own decision, but even he was so very tempted to accept.

The massive damage that it had been inflicted on the organization justified going to such lengths.

"And what our collaboration would be then, I mean… why would we be required for?"

"Logistics, just that. My contacts in the Federal Court and Folsom, just in case I'll need them, are... let's just say, weak? I mean I need yours."

Mr. Lancaster took some time again trying to collect his thoughts. Maybe this could be the last stage he needed to get his boss' trust. To change the course of things. He waited for a moment, still undecided. There was a lot at stake, his future, most definitely, but he'll do. "Where can I find you? Tomorrow that is… Have to make some phone calls first."

"You have my number. It's still the same; I'm still a respectable man. I have that ability, Mr. Lancaster, just like my friend in the Law Enforcement. I thought you'd find it interesting to know… that this would give you a guarantee that you can negotiate with me without any risks." The man dressed in the three-piece suit smiled. "So, will you call me? Tomorrow?"

"By yes or no, but I will. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay. I'll be waiting."

Jonathan Wells hung up the phone.

He put his hand over his mouth, thinking. He started pacing around his luxurious Office with a grin of satisfaction imprinted on his face. He lit the umpteenth Winston. He poured some more bourbon.

It was 7 PM, Thursday 9th February.

He had just made the last phone call. He ought to wait until the next day.

Now he knew that he had made the right move.

His plan was quite simple. He would earn twice for just the same unique, and neat work and would guarantee himself immunity and good liaisons for the future.

Undoubtedly, he knew, there would be a future.

He surely knew that it will be.

Next year, five years will have passed since the old man's conviction. The powerful man would be eligible for parole, and he will pledge to it since he would be old enough to do it. Also, he knew that he would get it, of course, he would. And they would be all together again. And there would be a luminous, bright and prosperous future.

He was sure that it was going to be.

Also, he would be a part of that future.

Again.

* * *

**ACT 45 -A WARNING SIGN-**

Hutch woke up to a feeling of emptiness.

As if he was immersed in a big void which was surrounding him. A big swirling, an endless hole.

It was a horrible feeling.

He was trying to remember Starsky's final struggles with the chemo and he found that his memories were jumbled. Neither he understood why he was attempting to remember such moments. He found that the pieces that were missing and his memories were messy; that there were inconsistencies of how things had happened.

It was very upsetting.

He woke up to that feeling, cold and sweaty. He was nervous.

It was a sunny Friday morning, but the clouds were going to come back, as usual.

He thought that he was going to go for a run, but maybe a little later. He felt that first, he needed some more time to take in of what was going to happen and then try to approach tomorrow as a new normal day.

Tomorrow it would be an ordinary day.

However, he was scared.

Lately, he didn't know the meaning of the ordinary.

On Saturday, the 11th of February it was going to be the last batch of three, and they were going to know if it had worked.

The day after.

Regardless of his expectations, Hutch felt that something was out of sequence in his mind as if sensing a new threat, a new menace. When he woke up that morning something worried him, and he didn't want to forget what it was.

He knew what it was.

A sign.

He had already discarded in the past those other signals; those warning signs that he had ignored with his reckless disregard in the past, unfortunately. He didn't know what it was; he just woke, and he felt that huge void.

The pain that he felt was almost physical.

He tried to remember. He attempted to hang on to the last good news, yet, at the same time, some of the not pleasant memories from the past months intruded his mind.

Especially, those during the worst days.

And Parry.

"_Who?"_

And Gunther's attack, too.

"_What?"_

Why was the heck he thinking of those people?

"_Oh my, I think I'm crazy!" _he thought.

He sat down. He realized his breath was fast with no apparent reason. He was angry and scared. He needed to calm down. He wanted his breathing to become smooth and mellow. He paid attention to it, started doing his exercises. He should bring his mind to a pleasurable state; a state in which the chemo had worked, where there wouldn't be any more harm or any new threats. A place where Starsky would be safe, whole and complete.

And he would complete him.

He needed to recover his Prana; the lack of it was the reason for his increased feelings of anxiety and stress.

Starsky was his Prana.

He should be well aware of his breathing. He needed to recover himself.

It didn't seem to work.

He closed his eyes and felt his heartbeat, and he tried to remember… and he did.

He had dreamt.

He had been dreaming all night that Starsky was going to die.

That's why the lump in his throat; that's why there was a void in the place where his heart should be.

He kept thinking. Concentrated. Even though, it had been almost twenty days of continuous and miraculous progress; of a streak of good news; even though, he had been there when the doctors had told them that his friend's primary cancer had disappeared; the day the doctors had told them that everything would be all right... When he woke up this morning, things still did not feel real.

"What if? What if everything had been just a dream?"

He was heartbroken and scared.

"Sam?"

"Hi, Hutch. What's going on? It's half-past seven!"

"I'm sorry. I - I had a dream."

"You what?"

"I had a dream. It felt very real, still feels."

"Starsky?"

"Yeah. He died. Oh, Sam, Starsky's gonna die."

"It's okay. Calm down, calm down. I'm coming."

Sam could hear behind Hutch's words how despondent he was feeling, so he rushed to his place. It had been spinning around in his mind the idea to help him cope with these stressful moments with more than words, but then, his buddy refused to take any medicines to feel more comfortable.

The doctor knew that sooner or later, Hutch would crash.

It seemed that it had happened today, so he went to Venice Place.

**********************S&H*************************

"Hutch, listen, it's natural to feel this way at the threshold of this significant moment, all right? Do you wanna tell me? Wanna tell me your dream?"

They were sitting in the living room. Two glasses and a bottle of milk still unopened were the only witnesses to their conversation.

"I was watching him while he struggled with his last batch of chemo, hoping; and then after everything was all right, and the doctors said that he was okay; he died." He fixed his scared eyes in his friend, "He only died, Sam, so suddenly. I didn't expect that to happen."

Sam stretched his arm to support Hutch; he looked like empty, "Okay, that's a typical reaction of your mind. You know that it won't happen that way, don't you? You know that Starsky won't die." the psychiatrist said with empathy.

"And what if that happens?" Hutch asked aghast.

"It won't, not for a long time at least." Sam made a pause; he was not so sure himself that it wouldn't happen that way. However, he must keep Hutch's spirits high, so he kept saying "But if that happens, at this point of his illness if something like that should happen, you certainly would be prepared. I know that, buddy."

The blond man shook his head; he seemed not to listen or pay attention to Sam's words, so he reassumed his hopeless tone, "In my dream, I hated myself because I wasn't prepared. I know that I'll never be ready to lose him, but in my dream, his lost took me totally unaware. Before the last diagnosis, I'd been prepared Sam, barely... but now this sudden healing happened. In my dream it happened too, he healed, suddenly. Though unexpected, though we were all sure that he wasn't gonna make it, he beat cancer, he certainly did. And then, it happened anyway. We weren't able to accept any failure and he died. I mean, what if my dream comes true? In my dream, it shocked me again, to losing him".

"That's stress; you're stressed, and that's an ordinary response of your mind to the stressors," He said knowingly and then, offered, "I can help you if you want, can give you something to take..."

"I don't wanna miss anything that's happening, Sam. I can't indulge myself in that state of unawareness." The blonde-haired man said flustered.

"I'm not offering such things; I just want you to feel better."

"I'll be better the moment these crazy ideas disappear from my mind. I'm undone! You understand that? The grief I feel is just unbearable. As if I had been the one to blame for letting him go."

Sam shook his head, taken aback, "What are you talking? You're not God. You can't protect him from Cancer! If his death's gonna happen, there'll be nothing you can do to save him!"

Hutch lowered his tone again, he was tired. "In my dream, he didn't die because of cancer, Sam. I was there with him when he passed away I saw everything and didn't do a thing. I left him alone. It happened quickly. It did feel real. I watched how it happened, but - but, oh... I wasn't there though I don't know... I'm confused but, but I watched it happened, and I don't know how it did happen. He only went and not so peacefully."

"Hey, stop. Stop it! He didn't die, and you didn't see anything. It was just a dream, and you're scared, that's all. Tomorrow it'll be the last round, and it's possible that that fact triggers your inner ghosts."

"Maybe. But I was terrified. I had lost him. In my dream, I was dreaming, and I woke up at three in the dawn remembering his voice to the point of almost hearing him. I remembered his footsteps on the hall landing and his steady walk; I remembered him singing to himself, and suddenly, in my dream, there was no more singing… and I almost forgot his voice. And I'm scared, don't ever want to forget him." Hutch was utterly sad and sounded completely deflated.

"Listen, buddy, I understand the way you're feeling now. You're feeling anxious, numb, and disoriented, you don't know what to do or what to think about it. Which is the reality and which isn't? Neither you're sure why are you feeling those things, okay? I guess that you need a distraction, to stop thinking and start doing things again for you and Starsky. Positive things that will link you to the happy and incoming future. You need more time for your own, but until tomorrow you should relax and wait for the day soberly".

Hutch opened his eyes and said sounding pivotal and final, "I don't want tomorrow to come."

Sam frowned perplex, "But tomorrow will come, inexorably."

"Still scares the hell out of me the possibility that tomorrow can come with bad news."

"That's normal, Hutch. The whole experience's been a shock to your system, and this is your way of coping. Your mind has so many different mechanisms to defend yourself from pain. Tell me? The first time you realized that Starsky was so sick, how did you feel?"

The taller man shrugged, "I was scared and worried at first, but I thought that he would overcome it."

Sam nodded and said, "But then, after that, you felt heartless about the whole thing, even angry; quite distant and cut off." the doctor added, knowingly.

"Yeah, I guess that I was angry because I couldn't do anything to help him, and I wanted to escape and disappear."

"And what did you do?"

"I ran, I hid. Until I felt a little bit lighter, until the moment it dawned on me that" he made a pause and sighed, "that if I wasn't there, beside him, I was gonna lose him."

Sam nodded, "... and after those first moments of uncertainty and bemusement, you started being again the loving person and brave white knight you usually are when it comes to him. You see? It's a cycle." the shrink completed. Hutch also nodded reflexively in silence and Sam added, trying to reason with him, "You have ups and downs, buddy, and that's good. Somehow you have to protect yourself from the grief. Tomorrow! Wait until tomorrow, and it'll pass". He rubbed the flaxen-haired man hand.

"But this is different Sam, my tomorrow's bigger than yours."

"What do you mean?" Sam was confused.

"It's not just about tomorrow. I'm telling you; I have this feeling as if something's gonna happen again, something I just can't grasp yet. As if this is not the end of our suffering." The blonde-haired man looked desperate.

"You're tired in every sense, Hutch, and you just need a little more time to find your new normal. Concern and sorrow have many faces and ways in which they're perceived and felt. You'll have to take your time to move on from this difficult situation. Cancer will always be lingering in a small way, and it will always be that way until you hear the word remission. And then, knowing you and Starsky, the way you are and the work you do, I think that concern will be a constant in your life, my friend. Get used to it." Sam smiled tenderly.

Hutch chuckled. "That's what I'm telling you. I feel like, beyond cancer… There's something else lurking out there; something or someone that's menacing to come and take him away from me, one more time. I woke up this morning to that feeling. I don't know why Sam, but I did." Hutch shook his head, rubbed his face, squeezed both hands over it and took a big mouthful of air, yes! He was tired in every sense as Sam had told him. "I need this to end."

"Love's Everlasting, Hutch. 'This' as you like to say, will never end," the doctor winked, trying to sound lighter though seemed like it didn't work.

"But I can't resist it anymore. I cannot pay the price anymore."

"And which one the price is?", Sam asked.

"Starsky."

"Hey! And you. You and he, are the prices, your life together's the price. You're the same thing; that's why losing him is so inconceivable to you."

"Yes, he's my better half, Sam and now again, If something happens to him I don't know if I will be up to it after all that has happened. After all the things I did wrong at the beginning of all this, and I almost lost him forever."

"You did wrong?" the doctor shouted, "What did you do wrong?"

"I didn't pay attention to the signs, just the way I did when Gunther occurred." Hutch shook his head and stated forcefully, "It won't happen to me again. I'll be watchful this time."

"Which signs? Whaddaya mean?" the shrink was utterly confused.

"Back in time, with the first evidence of his disease, at the outbreak I remember I thought that Starsky was kidding, that he was angry about something that I just couldn't grasp, Kira..." He shook his head at his vacuity, "that Parry's case was torturing him. And I blamed him for something neither I knew damn well what might have been consistently and just in case."

"We all thought that he was overwhelmed by the investigation, not just you."

"But I should have realized! I shouldn't have thought in the same way you all did, not me. And I was confused because I was sure that Starsky was being childish, fussy and irresponsible, especially the latter because I thought that nothing else could happen to him, not at least after all that he's been through. Turned out it wasn't..." He raised his eyebrows, wondering. "I took advantage of him, of his enormous generosity as I always did and I didn't pay attention to the signs. I mistook his symptoms, and I almost lose him." Hutch said with tears in his eyes.

"You're not a doctor, for christ's sake! What are you talking?"

Hutch stood, incensed "I'm not talking about medical symptoms, dammit!... the way he was at the time, I should've known that something else was gonna happen. Did you forget about Parry in the middle of all this? I mean, I took Starsky for granted. I misinterpreted, Sam. I misconceived, and I relaxed. And then Parry arrived. I was so sure that Starsky was invincible..."

"Sometimes I think he is, Hutch!"

"But he isn't! The fact that he can overcome everything, that he can get over everything and never drive back's not enough. The fact that he's managed to stay, to get back from hell before, even from death itself, shouldn't have allowed me to relax. He's not immortal. I must be even more cautious than before; the extent of the damages has been so abysmal... "

"And so abysmal is your inner strength, buddy." The doctor interrupted him, "Proportional. Starsky has always fought, and he has always won because you have always been beside him. He's proved that, enough times!"

"Yes, he did. And I believe in him! That's why I'm so scared! I mean, this time, Oh My God! if something happens to him again, I know it'll be final because If I'm a part of the solution, a part of his power... I'm telling you, Sam, that I already don't believe in me, not anymore. I've lost my ability. I'm tired! I haven't the strength to witness, or to take the chance to see that something bad would happen to him again, not anymore." He sat again, dejectedly. "What if we fail this time?"

"The same will happen again, Hutch. No way this will be worse than it had been before; he'll heal".

Hutch was flustered; Sam didn't seem to understand what he was saying. "Oh, Sam! We're talking in two different languages here. Maybe he'll beat the mets, but I feel that there are more enemies than cancer out there for us. I have this weird feeling since I woke up, please... "

"Hutch you're experiencing the posttraumatic stress disorder. You've been exposed to very traumatic episodes since five years ago in a row, and your job doesn't help either, and then, well... cancer among all things!"

"And what can I do with that?" Hutch shouted into Sam's ear. "I'm stressed, maybe I am, yes! Maybe the burnt-out cop who's still breathing for me sees things through the lens of listlessness and tragedy. So? I'm not so sure that everything's safe, that there ain't no demons out there! And, believe me, buddy, they ain't ghosts. They're for real, and I can feel them. I don't wanna be thoughtless again, neither prideful nor ruthless like I used to be. Oh! my smug crafted superiority! I won't let anything happen to him again."

"You won't let that happen!? That's a given, but you must know that there are things you can't prevent from happening." Sam tried to reasoning.

"Like cancer?"

"Like cancer."

"I'm not talking about cancer, damnit!" He stood violently. "We beat cancer. The cancer is not. It's terminated. Though I faltered many times during this nightmare, something inside me told me that we could do it. And we did."

"So stop this hocus-pocus and give it to me straight, Hutch. What if, if not cancer? What is it?"

"I don't know! I'd like to know! That's why I'm so scared. I'm talking about other things that could happen, and I won't ignore them again. My gut feelings. I woke up this morning thinking in Parry and Gunther, feeling them again. My sixth sense warned me that something bad could happen. I almost lost him once, trying to ignore those gut feelings. I thought that if I ignored them, they didn't exist, did they? Might they disappear? Turned out that they didn't, Sam. Like when all of you concealed from me that he was sick, cancer didn't vanish. I did that before Gunther, I knew that he was lurking, that something horrible was gonna happen… and I did nothing. I repeated the same pattern at the beginning of all this; I did the same I did before. I ignored the symptoms and my gut feelings, and then Parry came. A monster... That won't happen to me again Sam."

"You're brave Hutch; you'll protect Starsky. I don't know why now you're berating yourself in this absurd way."

"Why? Do you know how guilty I feel? Sensing that he's always the target. That everything wrong that could happen in this fucking city will happen to him. I feel like I'm a catastrophic failure. I knew I was losing him and instead of staying, fled, and I almost let him go. For some time, I dared to forget that there's always a chance to change the course of things. I almost forgot that we, together, are invincible, and I'll be damned if things won't be different from this moment on."

"I'm sure as hell that everything will be okay if you are there beside him, keeping him safe Hutch. You have that certainty too?"

Sam waited for a few minutes, and the answer didn't come.

"Why did you call me, Hutch?"

Hutch broke; he did not know what to think. His thoughts were as changeable as his moods. It had been that way all day since he awoke all sweated in the middle of his nightmare. Sometimes he felt he was up like a kite. Sometimes he felt he couldn't be able to take another breath without breaking. Suddenly the world seemed to get ahead of him, and he considered that he was omnipotent and strong enough to stop it. Almighty.

Suddenly the world seemed to drag him into the deepest of the darkness. Mundane.

Sometimes, he was full of certainties about how promising the future would be, but at the same time, he knew it would be dangerous, still so hazardous to be out there.

Sometimes he felt that Starsky was safer in Hope and his illness.

"What if he recovers and wants to get out there again?"

He couldn't take it anymore.

"Hutch, buddy. You called me. Define what's happening to you, man. You've got not the certainty that you could protect your partner? You tell me."

"I'm scared; I don't wanna lose him again. I need help."

"Okay, I'll help you."

And Sam tried to help him overcome his ghosts.

*********************S&H***********************

"Ghosts?" The grey-haired man giggled nervously "I ain't no ghost!"

"Yes! Ghosts. Dead persons that are believed to appear or become manifest to the living; people who just live in my imagination and for some strange reason they can't materialize. Associated people. I used to have associated people, and now they're like ghosts, I think that there are many out there. But you are not P. Regardless, it's been a long time we didn't see, did we?" The white-haired man stretched out his hand to his visitor.

The penitentiary's guard left them alone.

"It's been only just five months, Jimmy" The visitor took the shorter man's hand in his, with both hands. Squeezing it, too.

"So far the time here's endless, my friend."

"Yeah... I can figure it out."

Their glances still clutched, intertwined.

"It's so good to see you. Nobody dares to come here to visit me, lately. I feel like a leper." He motioned the visitor to sit down, "but you being here, reminds me that there's life out there, and I like it." the old man smiled with irony.

The tall and gray-haired man took a seat; he knew he hadn't been allowed to talk just yet, so he kept listening.

"You're enjoying the business on my behalf? You keep it going?" Jimmy continued asking. He was wearing a silk shirt that reflected his utterly white snowed-hair and his icy blue eyes. He approached the window and started looking through the glass pane to the inward yard, with his back towards his visitor and his hands clasped behind him. "How are our operations on the West Coast? Recovered?" He made enough pause to let his friend answer.

"On the mend, yes..." the taller man replied.

The white-haired man turned around with a mix of curiosity and sufficient disappointment. "So couldn't be better!" he said, with disbelief.

"Oh no, they certainly could be, Jimmy! You're greatly missed, man. I mean, nobody's got your knack, if you were in charge...," the visitor shook his head "things could move faster."

The white-haired man laughed.

That was exactly what he had expected to hear.

His laugh was scary.

"At last, you realized!. Dear P., I haven't built an Empire because I'm a jerk! You know me since High School, and I've always been a geeky kid." He broke again into another great laughter.

The grey-haired man felt the same way he did every time he was with his old partner; this love-hate relationship he had with him since his freshmen year.

It was admiration and envy.

He experienced both feelings at the same time. But as it had always been, he was right.

Not only Jimmy hadn't been a fool but also he had proved many times, how ruthless he could be to get what he wanted to.

"Paul?" The white-haired man realized that his visitor was lost in thought "Hey, here. I assume that you need something from me, then. I mean, you need my skills. Otherwise, you wouldn't be here, I know you enough." He put an evil grin on his wrinkled face again and retook his position looking through the window. He couldn't help but feel proud of his twisted ideas and always correct hunches, but at the same time, the fact that Paul was there because he needed him for something saddened him. "So, what's that? What brings you here?" He finished.

The white-haired old man filled his lungs, waiting for his ex-employees answer.

Even though how bad everything had turned out during the past five years, he still trusted in the grey-haired man.

After all, he was the only friend he had.

"Nothing to ask you for, so far, Jimmy. I'm just here to bringing you solutions. And some good news." Paul said.

Jimmy turned over his heels. "News about some ghosts out there?" he asked, playful.

Paul chuckled. "Well, let's just say that he ain't no ghost but some elusive leprechaun in your imaginary world."

Jimmy frowned, bewildered. "Oh! You know I've always been so fond of Paul's Gospel" he laughed again at his pun, "so tell me your news!" He raised his eyebrows, wondering without understanding. "which one that would be? You were saying?"

The taller man felt proud of his inquiries, so he rushed to inform him. "Good news is always good news, but also, as I said, I'm bringing you solutions. We can start a new deal, a new order perhaps. Someone called it your Sweet Revenge, Jimmy, and… Oh yes! I agree with that. It would be its name, most accurately. I like it. Sweet Revenge! Yeah! Suits the moods! You wanna know what is it about, or you wanna try to guess?"

The white-haired man frowned, feeling curious and intrigued. He loved those kinds of challenges. He was grateful that his friend still remembered him and a little adrenaline meant that he could counteract the boredom he was suffering. It would not hurt him to savor a little action, a new challenge. "_It has been a too long period of drought",_ he thought. "Mh... sounds impressive. I guess you're testing me? You shouldn't tempt me, Paul! The old fox's still alive and kicking" He smiled, daredevil.

"I don't think that this would be the kind of challenge that you can't stand, Jimmy. Neither that you have to work very hard to realize what can be such sweet revenge for you, my friend, am I right?" Paul Lancaster, the taller, grey-haired man had no scruples either.

He had had the best of the teachers so he would do whatever would go wherever he needed to go to be Jimmy's sidekick, the only one. He couldn't fathom the possibility that the stupid man in Hong Kong takes his place, the place he was building beside his old schoolmate since Preparatory. Now that the Organization had been mortally wounded it would be the best of times to do it.

The white-haired man nodded and stayed silent but felt hopeful. "Oh! You know me damned well, P." Jimmy said. He shook his head when the realization hit him, so unexpectedly, "_could it be?"_ He frowned. He thought before to start talking again, only this time, he approached Paul; he took a piercing glance and caught his friend's arm trying to seek the real meaning of his words. "You know, P. that there's just only one thing that interests me, one thing that already took my breath away."

Paul nodded, smiling and licking his lips in expectation.

The white-haired man loosened his tight grip on his buddy's arm astonished and asked him, "Has it happened? Did he die, finally?" he finished.

"No. He's still alive."

Jimmy opened his eyes and frowned with anger. That was the only thing that he cared for, the only thing that could matter to him.

The man with grey hair smiled, wickedly and caught his former schoolmate's attention again. "He didn't die. Quite the contrary, in fact, you'll be surprised, but he's got into some kind of remission."

"What? Are you kidding me? That's exasperating! And what about the other one?"

"He's around the bend and freaking scared. The man's eating some antidepressants that his friend has given him to function correctly. Totally out of commission for us, I'd say, and easily disposable."

Jimmy punched the table, fiercely. "And what's supposed to be interesting about all this for me? About what sweet revenge are you talking if he's still alive? If that happens? I don't get it!"

"Hey! Relax and be cool. You're losing it here. I think that too much time being locked has impaired you."

Jimmy went straight to Paul's collar; he was furious. "Don't try to jive me, chicken, and play nice!"

"It's okay, it's okay, calm down!"

Paul settled back his jacket and his tie's knot; he tilted his head in self-admiration. He had never felt so powerful in front of his lifelong friend; above all, he was so much enjoying how agitated Jimmy's breathing sounded.

He smiled at Jimmy's impatience, but the old man didn't retract at all.

"Still being here, you know, Paul, that I can get rid of you, neatly. So don't mock me and tell me, what is it?" The white-haired man said.

Paul thought better about it; he knew damn well how capable the man could be. "The good news is that someone's contacted me to tell me the story and asked me for my help to finish the work."

"Finish the work? What's that? "

"Kill him. What else?"

"And what's what we're supposed to do?" Jimmy took a moment of time gathering his feelings. He felt a yearning to do it.

"We're gonna help someone else doing it. This man's client will be our little diversion, and he'll do it. He's gonna kill him. In fact, he's gonna eliminate our dear super cop, and with him, his stubbornness and zest for life will be finished. Totally eradicated!" The taller man shook his head and laughed viciously, "I'll be damned if he's not more than willing to give you that satisfaction, but he is. Whaddaya say, are you interested?"

They both laughed.

"Yes," Jimmy answered astonished.

"You'll know about me, soon."

"I am not going to go anywhere."

The two men hugged.

The taller one left the visiting room and went straight to his office to make the phone call… "Wells! This is Lancaster, I talked with Mr. Gunther, and I've got news for you. I want you to come to my office, don't feel like talking on the phone."

*********************S&H***********************

"David."

Murray, Garrahan, and Goodman were in the Board Room at Memorial; they were all waiting for Starsky at the conference table.

At 10.00 AM precisely, escorted by Hutch and Caroline he entered the big office. The doctors motioned them to take a seat, and so they did, except Hutch. The blond stayed standing still, silent behind his friend; his left hand was over Starsky's right shoulder. Starsky was also quiet, in expectation, while Cary sat just beside him squeezing his left hand.

They were all waiting for Murray's words.

"We've finished. It's over".

They were all holding their breaths.

"What does it mean it's over?" Hutch asked hastily and on behalf of Starsky, who was there, still silent, grave and scared stiff.

"It means that there aren't active cancer cells in your body." Doctor Murray stopped and smiled at Starsky. "It's been a miracle; you mustn't forget that this has been a miracle, David, just another one." Bob Goodman shook his head, "You're blessed, son."

Starsky and Hutch nodded; Caroline, still dumb and in awe, couldn't stop smiling.

"We have to remember this and take this in mind and don't ever forget it. You're still a cancer patient, and we have to take care of the clogged arteries that feed the liver, since through the blood from the lymph, well… It's pretty difficult to evaluate the impact now but… Can you see the necrosis here?" Doctor Garrahan showed Starsky the X-Rays "You see? Can you see what it has occurred in the nodules and the liver itself that it's been reabsorbed, see?"

"I don't know, I mean, I don't get it, please? Level with me. I'm confused." Starsky had never gotten along very well with the X-rays; his eager nature always played tricks on him, he wasn't familiar with them, and his nerves started twitching him. "I mean, I just wanna know if I'm okay or if this is just a dormant period. I've been reading, and I know about them" the brunet said, knowingly.

During his long hours at the beach house, more than once, he had peeked into Caroline's books and notes, so he knew that sometimes cancer cells could be dormant for some time.

"Starsky!" Bob stood and put his hands on his shoulders "Relax, boy."

"This ain't a matter of relaxation, Goodman! Come on! What do you think? John, Bob, you Charlie. Tell us the truth, please!" Hutch shouted. For the first time, he felt exasperated at the moment and just wanted certainties; he knew very well that human cancers could remain in an asymptomatic and non-detectable period and that the patients could carry cancer cells indefinitely without the possibility of a certain relapse. He also knew that relapses could happen, and he wanted confirmations.

"Hutch, this is medicine, not mathematics. Don't freak out and don't let David get scared. You're acting irresponsibly here. I'm his oncologist, and he also is, and Bob is his general physician. We're all telling you that according to the lab test we've performed, we're convinced that the metastasis in the liver, in the mediastinum and the primary tumors in his lung are in temporary remission. And this means that his cancer's asleep. Now! Ok? We cannot predict the future; we would like to do it but let's just say that we can barely control the present."

They all stayed silent, dumb.

Garrahan's words sounded like daggers, the young doctor's temper was legendary.

Starsky raised his eyes to Hutch, the blond was completely moved and nervous, and he said to his friend, ashamed and in a soft voice "I'm sorry."

Starsky winked and used the same quiet tone that Hutch did; he said, "Don't antagonize the people I need."

They both smiled at the memory.

"I'm sorry" the blond repeated shaking his head.

"You don't have to feel sorry, Hutch. We understand". Goodman kept saying. "I - we all wish we could be able to tell you that everything's over; that everything's finally over. Forever. That everything has just been a bad dream, but we can only say that this is the way it is, for now."

"And for now, you're microscopically clean, David!" Murray smiled excitedly, his eyes almost in tears and without leaving Starsky's face.

It was such a happy situation for the oncologist and everybody else; they were all excited, but especially he was, like every time he had to face someone to tell him that the treatment had been successful.

Also, that sentiment increased in cases just like Starsky's since he was such a nice man. It was a damn good sensation, help someone to recover and live.

They were all utterly happy.

Caroline hugged his husband, almost choked him since she clung from his neck, sobbing.

"You mean I'm okay?" suddenly the brunet recovered his voice, her wife still clutched to him. Murray raised his eyebrows without an answer, surprised at his patient's obstinacy. He had thoroughly explained him before what he could expect, so he smiled again, nodded slowly and shook his head in disbelief without adding anything further. Starsky closed his eyes and understood "Okay, I know. So, "microscopically clean" doesn't mean that I'm safe and sound yet." He bowed his head, nodding and played with Caroline's hair. He felt disappointed, and he felt Hutch's eyes all over him, so he raised his eyes to his friend and shrugged.

"Hey, you've beaten the odds, David, unexpectedly, but that's the way cancer sometimes behaves. The longer I practice my profession, the more it surprises me. As I said, you're clean; there's no need to pump you with those powerful drugs except for the usual maintenance chemotherapy. And chances are that you won't ever need to be pumped again."

"This means that…" he insisted.

"That the radical changes have happened and in simpler terms, that you won't die in one, three months or one year if this stays this way."

Murray had been straight.

"And what if it doesn't stay this way?"

"David, unfortunately, there's no way for us to know if all cancer cells in your body are gone. That's the reason we don't use the word 'cured.' I think that that's what you're expecting to hear, that you're cured, but now, at this point, you have a chronic illness, cancer cells can come back."

"And what if they come back?"

"It's called recurrence, and you must know David that within the five years following the first diagnosis and treatment, the cancerous cells can come back although you could have been in remission."

"Five years?" he grimaced "But may I live a healthy life? Like a real man, get back to work?" he said anxiously.

"All in good time, David, all in good time." Murray tried to slow his urge. The brunet nodded, and his doctor realized how visibly shocked Starsky got after hearing him say this, so he comforted him saying. "But although it's normal that such worry happens to you, you shouldn't be concerned about it. Every cancer's different. Every biology's different. And, even though, there's no way to predict what will happen, you're quite a spirit, David. I think that everything seems that it'll turn out to be all right, but for now, you enjoy your microscopically clean diagnosis, you just enjoy it, okay?"

"Okay."

Starsky relaxed a little and took deep respiration. Hutch squeezed his shoulder, reassuringly. He stood, and they hugged, he then crouched beside Caroline, who was still happily thrilled and kissed her.

The doctor was right, he decided he would do it, that he was going to enjoy the good news.

After a few minutes, he winked to Hutch and sat again. Caroline started encouraging him again. She was very optimistic. Anyway, she and everybody else realized that Starsky was still anxious and ill at ease.

He was lurking.

He felt he was still peeking from the end of his existence and pleading for a comeback, so true to his nature he was in a hurry and as always, extremely anxious to know. "Okay, I got it, but next, what do I have to do next?"

They all smiled; an ocean would be needed to extinguish his fire, anything lesser than that would be no use.

"Well, if you agree, we're gonna start a new Clinical Trial that's in Phase 3 with a new drug called Topotecan. You know what a clinical trial is?"

"Topotecan? What about it? I don't know it!" Caroline rushed in the answer.

"No, but It's been proved to be highly successful to prevent SCLC relapses at Johns Hopkins, Caroline. They're already using it, and we'd like to put David into that protocol. It's a cutting edge treatment" Garrahan added and looked at Starsky, who was still in awe.

She nodded.

"Any case, we're gonna check him regularly, to monitor the possible side effects of the drug and to check his responses to therapy. If he's still okay in two months, we'll keep giving it to him if not; we'll go back to our old friend Cisplatin. What do you say, David?" Starsky looked at Caroline, again; he didn't know whether it was better or not.

"We can start right now if you wish" the young doctor insisted.

He sought Caroline's face again and Hutch's; silently, they all agreed, he was going to take it. "Okay," he said briefly and obedient.

"Okay. So within the next two months, you must control yourself, daily, and then in bimonthly cycles too."

"And what those controls would be, I'll need to stay here or in Hope?"

"Not at all. We'll order blood works to monitor your complete blood count and the function of your kidneys and liver, weekly. We're gonna take CT Scans as well, you know that medical images are a source of much importance to identify any risk, and we'll do Pet Scans, of course, the usual... No, you don't have to be hospitalized for those checkups and most importantly, beginning today, you can take this whole month off, David."

Starsky released the breath that he didn't realize he had been holding and started laughing nervously; he couldn't help it anymore. One month off from cancer, drugs, and Hospitals were too much to take. Caroline and Hutch and Murray and everybody else who happened to be there also laughed, and then, after that moment, everybody laughed every time the people hear the same story.

Everybody.

Starsky was overcoming cancer, and he would be getting better and better.

"You mean one month in freedom? Without coming here?"

"Hopefully, yes. Only medicines."

Starsky smiled like a little boy. His eyes showed a mix of promise and excitement.

"You have to take it easy, my love" Caroline added worriedly.

"Pretty difficult..." he kissed her in her front "I'm so eager to go out there and shout!" He smiled again.

"Yes, I know, that's why I'm telling you, " and she kissed him back.

"Yeah, buddy, you can go out and shout! This sounds more like a remission than anything else! It's over, Starsk!" Hutch said out of the blue, fully breakneck and excited but, above all, without thinking. The blond felt thrilled, happy, grateful and everything in between.

"Don't…! Wait, Hutch! He's NOT in remission yet. That'll happen when he's more than one year without recurrence" Garrahan spoke again after his initial outburst.

Starsky realized how guilty and utmost disappointed the doctor's words made Hutch feel.

"Hutch, hey!" Starsky winked his eye to his buddy, and he reciprocated with a sweet smile. "Doc here means that I have to check that the squatters will continue being fried and terminated, out of my beautiful body, but that would be all!" They all laughed at his witty remark. "I mean I'm okay, for now." Sometimes, Starsky could be adorably scintillating. He added, "And I assure you, that I'll stay that way in the future."

Hutch nodded, almost broken with emotion.

"Hopefully," Charlie Garrahan added, "but remember that every organism works independently. No medical investigation can guarantee that someone like you - who has this propensity to generate cancer cells, cannot have a relapse. Statistics indicate..."

"I don't wanna be a part of that statistic. I'll stick to that other statistic, with the one that says that I'll be cured in the five year's term without recurrence. Today's the first day of my five years ahead and counting!" Starsky said, interrupting Charlie.

"That's what I said about your spirits, David," Murray said winking to his junior assistant.

The fiftyish doctor put his hand on the younger doctor's shoulder. The momentum of his youth somehow made him look Starsky alike sometimes. The more experienced man said, "Listen, Charlie, though it's true that any cancer cells that could have been left behind can grow and show up again, I think that that won't be David's case actually."

"Why?" the young man asked, humble.

"Because I've become a new soldier of the Legion of Goodman here since our patient has sufficiently proved that something else more than chemo is needed to defeat cancer. You need to be a real warrior."

"Very scientific," the rookie said, and he repented, "but utterly sweet," he said poignantly and made a soft face.

They all laughed even Charlie, who was trying to be more centered, not letting the sentimentalism conquers his professionalism. "However," Murray added soon, they all looked at him; his mellow tone had been completely eradicated. "You have to be careful, especially with the liver because the liver itself's not yet recovered from the direct chemotherapy. The tissue's already weak because of the scarring, and it can block the bile ducts. That blockage can lead you to liver failure, so," He made a pause seeking his full attention, "you have to take a healthy diet; don't get any stress and if so, everything will be all right" Murray finished.

"Damn! I was planning to eat a spicy hot burrito when I get back home" the brunet smiled cheerfully.

"And liver failure could leave you in a very grave condition. So it's too soon for burritos or ordinary lifestyle, Starsky," Goodman spoke from experience, he knew damn well the indomitable spirit of his patient.

"Whaddaya mean too soon?" Starsky suddenly got scared. "So this ain't over yet… the liver's fragile and, man! I don't feel like being a cripple or a chronic patient during my whole life. And the lungs? What about my lungs? Are they okay, how are them?"

The mere mention of any of his organs could go into failure, terrified him.

"Yes, they are, for now. But you should never, never forget that your lungs are weak. Listen to me David; for some time, you shouldn't forget that your liver's recovering and that it needs some more time to heal. But, above all, you should never, ever forget that your lungs are weak and that's the way they'll always be. Forever weak and that's all the normalcy you can get, you got it?"

"So, checkups, proper diet, and care… Would be all you need. No crisis or nerves' attacks are recommended around for a while, okay?"

"Okay, but what about my ordinary life?"

"Motek," Caroline broke the silence for the first time. "You've got it, my love, yes, you have it. Your NED's diagnosing is here." She showed him the X-Rays. "You stick to it, don't let it go and don't think about anything else for now, please?" and she touched her belly.

They hugged. And they cried and smiled. He kissed Caroline and decided to forget and let the hope take residence in their hearts.

They went to the Beach house and drank to the new good news.

Dobey, Huggy, and Sam came around to celebrate later.

It was a sparkling moment just like the bubbles from the champagne, the beginning of a charming season.

They hope it wasn't as ephemeral as the bubbles were.

*******************S&H*********************

"Mr. Lancaster... he's just arrived" the voice of his beautiful Secretary came over the intercom and announced the guest's arrival.

"Okay! Let him in".

When Paul Lancaster opened the door, the short man with the heavy glasses and the three-piece suit was standing at the door frame, hesitating whether enter or not and accompanied by the blonde and long-legged Secretary.

"Mr. Wells, pleased to see you. I'm satisfied that you're here."

"My pleasure."

"Make yourself comfortable and please take a seat. You're dismissed, Audrey, thank you."

She bowed her head and left the office.

Jonathan Wells looked around the spacious and luxury place. From the tufted black leather sofa to the thickness of the colorful wool of the Persian style rugs and the burgundy velvet frills in the silk drapes.

The place looked like a museum of sorts, and it was imposing.

"Fortunately you're on time; I have another meeting in..." the gray-haired man took a glance at his wristwatch "half an hour, so, this interview's gonna be short. May I offer you a Scotch, Gin Tonic?"

"No worries, we have very few little things to discuss, it'll be fast. Scotch is okay."

The grey-haired man poured him the whiskey.

"Ice cubes?"

"Okay,"

"Mr. Wells, according to what you've informed me, I assume that we've got a particular time frame to do our business, haven't we?"

"Not anymore. I persuaded my client that in fifteen days, which was the time that we initially had more exactly, we're not gonna be able to layout the operation."

"Good." The grey-haired man stirred his left index finger in the glass shaking the ice cubes while he was scanning his guest. "It's good to make deals with wise men like you, Mr. Wells. It wouldn't have been possible in such a short time to have everything sorted out despite how powerful my associated is."

"I'm very intuitive; I realized beforehand, Mr. Lancaster. For now, we've got plenty of time. But now's my turn, it's not my style to make assumptions I mean, this 'work'... are you interested?"

"We are, we are... Although before we start, my moral obligation's to warn you that there won't be a too big financial reward for you. I mean regardless of how profitable our business usually is, you know we're suffering a lean season right now, don't you?"

"Yes. I know, but I don't want a 'too big financial reward' as you, so fancy called it. For now, I just want recognition, some money, and your cooperation in the Penitentiary."

"No problem with that. That would be all?"

"After we discuss the not so big amount of bucks, yes. That'll be all."

Lancaster chuckled, sarcastically "You have the rest all sorted out?"

"Everything's settled. The plan's ambitious, but the resources are so scarce that though is a good deal, as I said, it'll cost you a little money."

Mr. Lancaster laughed again; he was surprised at the lawyer's rogueries and felt incredulous before such a display of audacity. Undoubtedly the man with the heavy glasses was reckless enough to play hard in the World League although being a newbie as he was. Or maybe he was just desperate.

"Okay, but first," Lancaster hurried to say, "I would appreciate that you make me good acquaintances with your plan. Otherwise, we won't have anything further to discuss at all."

"No problem, though I rather tell you after you tell ME what that 'recognition' could be."

"You'll get a great credit... but then, is that what you're expecting to get?" Paul Lancaster wouldn't say anything in advance, so he stopped and evaluated his options.

Jonathan Wells thought that after getting this accomplishment he could certainly win his spurs in the Organization, so he made the so expected offering.

"Yes. Mr. Lancaster, I must say that even though I was hoping to get a significant amount of money, a predominant position in the head office of your organization would suffice me even more. So, if those liabilities are honored, I'm gonna make you acquainted with my plan."

The little shyster didn't cease to surprise him.

He was desperate, most definitely. Lancaster decided to play along and smiled ironically.

"Okay, since the offer's kind of interesting... I can say that I'm all ears."

"You first." The short man with the three-piece suit and the thick glasses tried to force the decision "Which one would be my position in the Organization after completing this work?"

Paul Lancaster was no rookie.

He knew how to negotiate with scum like the little attorney in front of him, how to bargain and get the best offer; he also realized that Jonathan Wells' interests were not only bucks but power.

A vast amount of it, so he pushed him.

He was going to get the work done for a seemingly small price.

"If you don't tell me how much..." Paul shook his head and sighed, quite disappointed "Money talks, and it always goes first, Wells. Then, if you prove me how far you can go to support the organization, I assure you that you'll get the kind of reward that you never dared to dream with." He knew that the avid lawyer was eager to get a place and that he was anxious to find out which one it would be. "How much money, Mr. Wells?" he said impatiently. "And hurry up. Time's running out!" Paul Lancaster knew that he had the winning hand; he could feel Wells' increasing weakness, so he pretended he was infuriated and started pacing around his office, "Come on Wells!" until the lawyer broke, defenseless.

"One hundred thousand!" The man wearing the three pieces suit and the thick glasses said, in fact, he rushed to add. "However, as I told you in advance, money's not the only thing that could be enticing to me..."

"Oh, I realize. And what else do you want?"

Wells looked at him, straight into his eyes "As I said, a predominant role in the Head Office of your organization will be okay. I..."

Lancaster turned over his heels and interrupted him and made the offer that, he thought, no one could ever deny. "I've got something better. How about being the successor of Judge McClellan?" the gray-haired man decided to play hard.

"What?" Jonathan Wells opened his eyes in astonishment "I need the President's nomination to become a Federal judge!" He said incredulously.

"You'll get the President's nomination, the Senate confirmation and everything else that it'll be needed, everything else that the Organization needs." Paul Lancaster made a pause, and before continued talking, he sighed. "We need to regroup and get back our trust and assets in the Federal Court's System if we want to get back to business. We need someone loyal as you have proven to be, Mr. Wells. Someone who's bold enough and spiteful as you are" the taller man smiled, acidly.

"Well, I don't know if I would have the capacity and skills to hold office," the shorter man said trembling, "I mean... I don't wanna end like McClellan did or be removed by impeachment or misbehavior. I have a reputation to protect and my morals and ethics..." the other man interrupted him, "Morals? Ethics? You're funny, Mr. Wells" the gray-haired man laughed sarcastically... "I mean, how does murder fit into your ethics, attorney?"

Jonathan Wells chuckled at the memory and nodded.

"A long time ago someone else's asked me this same question..." He said in a mild tone, quite a whisper that the other man seemed not to have been aware of since he continued talking. "But you're right, that's true, Mr. Wells, the only way you could leave Office is McClellan's way, and you know what I'm talking about. But you prove to be loyal to us, to keep your mouth shut, and you'll hold office for life, like everybody else in each State around the country does".

"You mean you have federal Judges spread around the whole country?"

"Safe and sound, all of them friends of ours, around the 13 U.S. Courts of Appeals. We also have some in the 94 District Courts and the U.S. Court of Claims. That's our business, Counselor. So what? I say fifty thousand. You accept our offering? If so, I'll need more specifications, and I'll need them now." He took another glance at his wristwatch, "I have only 15 minutes left."

"Well..." Jonathan Wells started to speak, "Er… I... er... need some more time to…" He stuttered and was suddenly interrupted by the gray-haired man.

"No apologies, Mr. Wells! Now! Are you up for it or are you not?"

The man with the three-piece suit took a sip from his scotch, lit the umpteenth cigarette and answered.

"Okay. I accept."

"When who and what do you need from us to kill him."

The lawyer hesitated.

The taller one, with the gray hair, went to the telephone and shushed him. He dialed. "May I speak with Mr. Gunther?" he looked piercingly at the shorter man "This is a friend of his, Mr. Paul Lancaster, thank you."

"Hello?" came the voice from the other side of the line.

"Jimmy, we've got our deal, you listen", and he pressed the hands-free button and started saying aloud and put the receiver to Wells to let him hear...

"When Mr. Wells?"

"As soon as you can provide me my client's getaway." the shyster answered in the microphone.

"Who will do it?"

"Madoc Parry"

"What will you need?"

"Someone in Federal Court and Folsom, at the infirmary. I need Parry out of Prison as soon as we can; that's his condition."

Paul Lancaster smiled wickedly at the rabid lawyer and nodded, thanking him silently for his cooperation. He disconnected the handsfree button.

"You got it, boss?"

There was a long silence, and the taller man raised his hand, preventing Wells to ask anything, the lawyer's eyes full of uncertainties. He spoke again into the receiver.

"Jimmy? Are we in?"

"Take your time P. I don't want any loose ends this time and please... do not miss."

The grey-haired man hung up the phone and raised his eyes to a bewildered Jonathan Wells.

"Now you can go, I don't wanna be late for my next meeting."

The man in the three-piece suit left the exorbitantly expensive Office located on the Avenue of the Stars on the 44th floor of the Century Plaza Towers. He took the elevator.

He was utterly shocked by the meeting.

Such a proposition he had been offered minutes ago would give him more power than he had ever imagined having. Being a Federal Judge would mean to have access to everything he had always desired; everything that Magda had always desired to have and maybe, just maybe, he also realized, could signify that he could finally get rid of the ubiquitous and seemingly perfect figure of his father-in-law and become the man he had always strived to be.

He ought to give a lot of thinking to the way he was going to deal with everything that was gonna happen, but he should rush, which is why he was also nervous, he couldn't let his guard down; not if he was gonna be surrounded by those sharks.

The cart reached the lobby and he startled; he felt as if he were paranoid so he looked sideways and walked fast; trotted, almost running. He just wanted to get home and cleared his mind.

After trespassing the main Entrance of steeled-glass and the marbled hall, he turned around to his right toward Constellation Boulevard where the underground Parking Lot for visitors was. Lancaster's Office was not in a commercial neighborhood. There were no restaurants or cafes, neither it was a busy or crowded place; only attorneys' offices and financial buildings were built there. Besides, he realized it was Valentine's Day, he had almost forgotten and it was late in the afternoon, so few people were walking down the streets. He was agitated considering that he was still there, and he was already late. He should hurry up and go and pick Magda and take her to Geoffrey's in Malibu or Spago, the new fashion Restaurant on Sunset Strip to celebrate, too. He couldn't afford just yet the splurge to go to La Dolce Vita, his wife long time longing, he could hear the bitter reproach in his mind… but maybe in a few months, he would do it, "_perhaps for our Anniversary, next year"_, he thought.

He got to the Parking Lot and went straight to his grayish Pontiac, fumbled with the keys and opened the door.

He didn't seat, he plummeted into the driver's seat; he needed to catch his breath and collect. He didn't know why he felt restless, unsafe but something unsettled him; something was out of place.

He started the engine and was thinking about such things and what to say to his wife when he saw it reflected in the rear mirror. Another car was parked just behind his and preventing him from getting out of the parking spot in which he was in. Jonathan Wells got worried and realized that just about any maneuver turned out to be impossible.

******************S&H******************

If Starsky was an enthusiastic man before, with so many initiatives, wouldn't it be hard to figure now that he was going to be even more determined to live his life the way he wanted to. Besides, it was tough to deny him such prerogative. Not, after everything that he had been through during the past months.

The day after the meeting at Hope, it was Valentine's Day, and Caroline and Starsky had decided to spend it at the most romantic and secluded place in the whole world.

The Santa Monica's beach house, which at that time was their cocoon of love.

There, alone and together, it would be the perfect place to enjoy their mutual company and celebrate Valentine's Day. They were going to spend all day in the cozy home cuddled up, laughing and, above all, planning the future. They were going to plan their future stripped of all doubts, stripped even of their clothes, all day.

All-day until the evening.

For dinner, Hutch was going to come along, too.

Starsky had insisted.

* * *

**ACT 47 -THE WAY THEY USED TO BE-**

He was trapped.

The place was desolated.

He was deciding whether he should get out of the car to see what was going on or stay inside when he saw him. The tall, infinite black man was getting out of his conventional and irremediably dull, greenish vehicle and motioned him with his left hand to get out of his.

He did.

"Well, well, Wells," the man stressed the last name, "Hey? Why so glum, chum? You thought that you were gonna get rid of me, dude? Hit me below the belt? I'm the boss, applesauce, so what's kickin'? What do you believe that you were trying to do up there? That's not very nice of you, huh, Johnny?" The tall man caught him by his collar; Wells' feet barely touched the cement tile. "Remember that you wouldn't be here if I hadn't been there before, okay? So what's the deal? What were you doing up there?"

"I went to, to..." the lawyer stuttered.

"Listen to me, chump! See the way I'm restricting your exit here? Barring I move my set of wheels, you have slim chances to move that piece of junk of yours and get outta here! So think about it, and tell me," he put his index finger on the lawyer's right temple "and do it fast! I've got a rendezvous with my lady in downtown, and I'm already late. I don't have all day, Wells. Spill it out!" The attorney was still speechless, and shit scared, the tall man decided to increase the force over the weak man. "I'm waiting, dumbass."

Jonathan Wells attempted to get rid of the throbbing pressure that the policeman was putting on his neck to no avail.

Dryden talked again. "Or perhaps do you wanna go? I can let you go, but I'm still a badass on the bump and run, you know? Blame my police's training".

Jonathan Wells did nothing but tremble.

The tall man laughed viciously, "C' mon, I wanna know what's going on, I'm tired sick of being dodged, what were you doing there?"

The lawyer stuttered again, "W- Well, since I - I was informed that Lancaster couldn't be able to prepare anything before the previous deadline, I - I convinced Parry that - that he should forget everything about that day. So I came here to give them the rain check."

"Oh! How considerate you are!" the black man eased the deadly grasp on the shorter man's vest. He adjusted his clothing. Wells composed himself.

"I'm not considerate. I'm intelligent, Dryden, and you don't know how far I'm gonna go with my wits."

"As far as you can go, I'll be there beside you, Johnny. Don't dare to forget about that. _'Memory need not deceive, but it is mercifully selective._' and mine is horribly targeted. You won't ever forget our deal, will ya? Fifty and Fifty, otherwise," he took his cuffs off of his rear trousers' pocket "I could talk. And remember I'm a cop of cops."

"You don't need to be rude with me, I'm a loyal man. I'm not a traitor!"

And Dryden released the grip over the attorney gave a cynic smile and got back to his car.

"See you soon, Baboon, " and he let Wells go.

*******************S&H********************

At 6.30 PM Hutch finished his shower. He got down the steps of Venice Place, straight to Helene. She finished the pie.

He couldn't help but feel rejoiced at the invitation. Starsky had insisted that his partner had to be there. The brunet whirlwind thought that he shouldn't be alone, that it wasn't good to be alone on any festivity, let alone on this one, being his partner, after all.

Starsky thought that Valentine's Day meant to celebrate with the loved ones. Not only with those who are romantically involved but also - in a profound sense -, with those people who, just like Hutch and he, were indivisible.

The flaxen-haired man remembered his partner's words fondly while driving from Venice Place to the Beach House where he was going to celebrate Valentine's Day with Caroline and Starsky. He smiled, remembering every single word they had said the day before. He had pretended to sound tired and annoyed of Starsky's insistence but, in fact, he was delighted with the invitation.

… Their last conversation unfolded in his mind.

"Here you go again, what the heck Starsky? Don't get heavy!"

"I ain't heavy; I'm your brother!" Starsky had made a face to his partner at the mention of the song's name and stuck his tongue out.

"Don't stick your tongue outta me!" Hutch gave him the index but laughed and shook his head finally.

"You see? You're laughing, you cannot be angry with me. Hutch admit it! You love me!" Starsky said thoughtfully and self-confidently.

"Oh, yeah I do!" Hutch accepted without any resistance and looked straight into Starsky's piercing blue eyes in an attempt to mean more than the three words could say, "I really do, mush brain!" he said lovingly.

"And that's the main reason you should be here tomorrow, on Valentine's Day! We love each other, buddy!" He stated the obvious to try to make him react and raised his thick eyebrows.

"And what about Caroline?" Hutch asked, curious.

"What about her?"

"Starsky, this is your first Valentine's Day together, for Christ's sake! I mean..."

Starsky interrupted him. "But it won't be the last" he smiled, and waited for his words to sink "and that little detail changes it all." He made a tender gesture and Hutch took into account the depth of his words. "Come on Hutch! I'm telling you that Cary and I are gonna cook... and you can't miss that! We've got all day for being together! It won't lessen the moment sharing a part of the day with you!" The brunet raised his eyebrows to his hard to convince partner, in fact, Hutch didn't want to intrude on such a private and significant moment for the newlyweds. "We'll drink excellent Chianti too." Starsky offered again. "I want you to come, buddy, please?" and the brunet cast puppy eyes to his friend, the ones that usually the blond never resisted.

"I hate you when you win over me! Okay, okay," the blond giggled, "but only if I bring the dessert. I can ask Helene to prepare for you the lemon meringue pie that you like so much."

"Sounds great!" Starsky said as if he were a kid.

"And what are you gonna prepare to eat? The Paul Muni Special?"

"Not at all," Starsky said astonished "that's your specialty already! I'm gonna prepare pork chops with caramelized apples and arugula" the dark-haired man finished pompously.

"Arugula?" Hutch asked surprised at such sophistication in his partner's diet.

"Exactly."

"And when did you turned into such a hedonistic creature?"

"Since I became an epicury," the Brunet said superciliously and shrugged closing his eyes.

"An epicury?" Hutch mispronounced on purpose.

"Yeah!" Starsky said sufficiently "An epicury. An epicury's a person who seeks the luxurious pleasures of life. That's me!"

"That's you? Oh", Hutch said, mockingly "kind of a sybarite."

"Kind of, what? What's happening with my voice?" Starsky frowned, pretending he didn't understand what the blond was saying.

"Your voice?"

"Yes, yes my voice! You said something about my voice; I mean what about it? It doesn't sound good?" Starsky looked alarmed and coughed on purpose.

"Hey! I'm not saying anything about your voice!" Hutch rolled his eyes and smiled at his sometimes naive and childlike partner. He started his usual lording ritual, "A sybarite Starsk, is a person who's self-indulgent in their fondness for sensuous luxury, just like an epicu-re-an, not an epicury, is." He stressed the syllables in a sneering way on purpose. "That's a sybarite. So nothing's happening with your voice! What you're talking about is a baritone! You're speaking about a baritone".

"Sybarite, Baritone! Whatever!" the brunet finished pretending to be even more confused than before. Starsky smiled and squinted to his 'know it all' partner. He always liked to tease Hutch about his lack of etiquette, debonaire or his nonexistent manners and his partner always seemed to buy it. Of course, he knew the difference between a baritone and a sybarite, as long as he also knew the difference between Muhammad Ali and Grand jetés already.

"See ya tomorrow, buddy."

The brunet closed the door, and Hutch got out of the house, only to returning today to celebrate Valentine's together.

While he arrived at the beach house, he got out of his car and shook his head in sheer delight at the evoked memory of Starsky's enchanting and wild nature.

He rang the bell

After all, that was the way they had always been.

**********************S&H***********************

"So what are we gonna do next? I can't stay here anymore! You came in early February, and now we're in April and nothing. Why's the delay for?" Madoc Parry was tired of being locked in that hell Folsom's Penitentiary was. He was keen to finish his plan. He was eager to get out of the sordid pit he was incarcerated in. Anxious to get free from his limiting frustrations. His own and personal prison cell.

It had been two months since Wells had told him about Starsky's miraculous recovery, and so far nothing had happened yet.

"Chill out, Mad boy. There are many things we still have to do before you can get outta here. Besides, it won't be until next month when they confirm Kantoy as the Warden." The lawyer informed his client calmly.

"And why do we have to need that one for?" Parry asked anxiously.

Wells chuckled, "'That one' s our man here. We have to wait for the Senate and Governor's confirmation."

The Welsh didn't want to hear any more excuses, he stood impatiently and opened his arms trying to find the proper questions. "And how do we know that they're gonna confirm him and how do I know that you're telling me the truth? Uh?"

Jonathan Wells laughed out loud. He was surprised. "You really are funny, man. You don't have any other choice, Madoc! But trust me, that's why! I'll be damned…" The lawyer shook his head, "you're not even eligible for parole, and you dare not to believe in me!?" The man with the heavy glasses finished. Every passing day he was more enthusiastic about the weak and sometimes dependent man, and he commiserated the Welsh and his unfortunate circumstances. "Trust me," he continued, "we've got a strategy, a revolutionary, and insurmountable legal strategy. But you have to wait until next month and further maybe until the proper time comes, I'm telling you."

"And what is that strategy?"

"Okay," Jonathan Wells was tired of being questioned by everybody, tired of giving everybody explanations but he couldn't help to tell his client the next steps in his defense, so he did. "We're gonna file an appeal and submit it to the United States Court of Appeals."

"And what's revolutionary about it? Are they gonna grant me the parole?" The Welsh asked hopefully.

"No, they won't."

"So? That's the insurmountable, then?" Parry said flustered.

Wells chuckled again, "No, that's not it. The impossible thing of all this is the great writ that, after that decision, we'll be forced to file!" he announced pompously.

Parry frowned, "What's that?"

"The habeas corpus."

The Welshman stood up again; he felt uncomfortable "Oh! Now you speak in Latin? Lawyers… I hate you all."

Wells smiled, "You know that we're needed."

"Yes, I know, that's why I hate you all. You're mean, cold, calculating, ruthless and, above all, expensive, very expensive." Madoc Parry laughed and so did Wells. "But that's true. I need you like crazy. So tell me, what's that petition for?" he sat again.

"The habeas corpus is a criminal law remedy that allows for revising the legality of any inmate's detention. It's been proved to be pretty efficient, and until the past year, it was the only way to review Military decisions made by the Supreme Court here in the States." The attorney raised his eyebrows trying to seek comprehension in the inmate's mind, "So we're gonna file the writ and then continue the second line of appeals. Imagine how successful this resource is that it's been used with concrete results during the Military Juntas in Argentina, for example. So go figure."

"What do we have to do with South America? And what's that?" Now Madoc was all but confused.

"Nothing with South America so far, unless we recognize that we can be equally or more corrupt than they are." The lawyer laughed, "The Habeas Corpus is our highway to the Federal Courts; that's all, though we're gonna submit it to both, State, and Federal courts. That's the main key to our 'final solution'"

"Yeah," Madoc whispered pensively, "the 'Final solution' to our Jewish question," he smiled. "You just named it, the man means the whole mankind to me, Johnny," he sighed and shook his head, "So, after we present that paper they will let me get outta here?".

"Don't think so. The State's Court won't allow you to be released."

"So, what's funny about it?"

"The funniest thing's that we're gonna be forced to initiate the next stage of the Judiciary System. And that means, where we have our friends. Usually, these appeals allow the court to consider many aspects of the underlying case against one specific defendant, like procedure, prosecution and particularly the police investigation. We'll focus in the last one." He closed his briefcase.

"Can we do that? Review the police investigation?" Parry asked flabbergasted.

"We can, we can. We have our men in the Police Department, don't forget about them! They revealed some inaccuracies the cops did when handling evidence, for example. We'll use those mistakes."

"Do I know those men?"

"You know one of 'em." The lawyer stood.

Parry squinted. He remembered the tall, mean and cold police officer full of hatred that he had known in Metro before everything and had recommended Wells to him months ago. He could not believe or pinpoint if Wells was talking about the same person. But he wanted to know

"Tell me which his name could be?" Parry insisted.

"Ask no questions and hear no lies" Jonathan Wells signaled the inmate with his right finger. "Listen, Mad, that's not something that you're really interested to know at the moment, are you?" He shrugged, "Later, maybe. I mean, after everything's finished perhaps you wanna send him a bouquet of roses in appreciation" the short man with the three-piece suit funnily said and chuckled.

"Dryden" Parry ventured.

Wells nodded, silently.

"I still wonder why this man's willing to go to such lengths to do this for me" Madoc Parry pondered.

"He isn't going to do anything for you. He's gonna do it for himself. He just hates Starsky and Hutch. But you've been right, he's been our associate in the past in the Police Department and still is our special man in Internal Affairs. He'll take care of everything." The lawyer extended his hand to his client.

"So, maybe, instead of a bouquet of roses, you should buy him the whole Flower Market on my behalf!" Parry reflexively and amusingly added while shaking their hands with extreme force.

Wells kept silent and grimaced and then the killer released his shake. The lawyer looked at Parry with an air of superiority and began to leave. Mad Parry didn't like that look, so he reached for the lawyer's arm and kept asking questions. The Welsh was nosey.

"And why's this Dryden so eager to seek revenge against them? Why did he hate them? He didn't tell me when I met him."

The short man with the three-piece suit sighed, "It's an old story… you wanna hear?" he sat again.

"Yeah. I'm curious."

Jonathan Wells chuckled, "Okay, let's just say that your sweet torment most especially's responsible for having impaired Dryden's Police Career at the Department. The brunet has played in the past some tricks to the black man that he just couldn't forget. I mean his reputation's been severely damaged because of him and his partner too, though in Hutchinson's case to a lesser extent. But most importantly, he just hates them, that's all that you need to know now."

"Hence, you mean that I can hold out hope that he'll do his damn best to bring down the Police's work?"

Wells started laughing, exhilarated. "More or less. He's gonna overthrow it, mortally!"

The Welsh nodded, "So he could provide me my getaway and convince the Jury to overturn my conviction?"

"Well, not exactly, I can't promise you a complete overturn. But with Dryden's cooperation, this strategy will grant you the most significant two things that we'll need right now."

"Like what?"

"Time and freedom. This 'strategy' will give us time at our disposal, which is a precious and scarce resource. Time to let him be reinstated and to be an easier target. And freedom, of course. I don't have to go to so much expense to explain to you what freedom means, do I?" Parry nodded, and Wells continued "If this doesn't work, then we have to get more creative."

Parry squinted, "And what shall we do?"

The lawyer shrugged, "Maybe we should try a more traditional solution with someone in the Infirmary. But It will cost you a bunch of bucks," Wells opened his arms in doubt, "You could always escape, that's another possibility. I don't know. We'll see to it when we need to. If we need to. It's a delicate balance of procedural strategies and functional men to the cause."

"Only to kill just one man?" Parry asked opening his eyes incredulously.

"Well, if you say so, that's nothing but an understatement, a mere simplification. But yes, in this particular case, this particular man and his partner have proved to be particularly a problem of considerable magnitude." the man in the three-piece suit said sarcastically.

"I know exactly the size of this particular man, Wells."

The lawyer smiled wryly, "I know you know. So if you wanna put it in those terms, yes, to kill one man and obviously get rid of two."

Parry nodded, satisfied. "I'm happy that I'm in the right place and at the right time surrounded by the proper people. I mean I come in handy, apparently, don't I?" he chuckled, "That's funny. Turns out that finally, I'm useful for doing something. Now I have a purpose; my life had never had any, so far. Besides, either way, I'm on death row, so I have nothing left to lose."

"Yes, this is a perfect windfall, and you can be useful to the organization and get the necessary immunity to disappear."

Parry stared at the lawyer in shock and disbelief. His eyes were unfocused as if his attention were only inside his head. Wells realized that the Welsh was staring at him with no intent or interest, he realized that what was significant were the images that were flooding his mind actually.

It was quite embarrassing and aggressive for the lawyer until The Welsh blinked as if he were fully recovered and said, "You don't understand, counselor. I don't wanna disappear. I just wanna fulfill my expectation.".

"You're funny." Wells got nervous, he couldn't believe the man's tendency to be obnoxious.

"I'm far from being funny. In fact, I am not. I'm becoming impatient, and I'm dying here. You don't understand how I hurt."

"Hey, I do. But don't play the melodramatic, okay? You're dying, it's all right! So?" The lawyer tried to sound intimate and playful, "I've got something for your funeral. In lieu of flowers, I'm gonna give you the best of presents you can get: Your action hero, your curly-top blue-eyed doll in a platter!" He laughed out loud, "but you have to be patient and trust me, Madoc!" Wells talked to him as if he were an old-time friend.

"Trust you?" Now it was Parry's laughter that spilled over the place, "Yeah, that would be easier to say than to do. Don't forget that you're a lawyer."

Wells also laughed; he liked the way his client tease him; but Parry had other plans, so he looked down defiantly and said, "Don't laugh. You're worse than that! You're a lawyer in the middle of a struggle to get more power, and that's a lot of adversity to me." Parry finished reasoning.

Wells looked away and broke eye contact and wait for some time until he could be more at ease with his internal discomfort and when he recomposed, he said, "Adversity? 'Adversity is the trial of principle. Without it, a man hardly knows whether he is honest or not." The lawyer stated with authority; He would not let the Welshman go away with it, and then added, "I heard it from my home town's loan shark." the lawyer laughed and made a pause. An icy silence permeated the air, in fact, Wells' words didn't seem to be funny for his client, and the shyster realized. "I mean," he tried to clarify, "I have no doubt that you're trustworthy and reliable, Mad; don't see the reason you think differently from me, so I expect…"

"Shut up! Stop this bullshit. You don't expect. You're not supposed to wait, and I don't want you to expect anymore either. I wanna do it, and I wanna do it now. I've already discarded my original time frame. What else do I have to lose? What's the delay for? If it comes to money you know I have lots of it to accelerate the process, and you can count on it, right? I'm anxious, Mr. Wells. I wanna kill him. I'll give you more bucks if that's what's needed." the prisoner said with a mix of desperation and anxiety.

"Right, but that would be the last resource. I don't want you to waste your money," the lawyer tried to sound convincing.

"Oh... yeah, I figure. You wanna save it all for yourself after my death."

"And who says that you are gonna die?", Wells squinted.

"I say... After I get him, I'm gonna kill myself." the killer finished emphatically.

Wells stayed dumbfounded.

The man was creepy, he was sure of it, but he also knew that he was ripped in two. Madoc Parry suffered from the most intolerable shortcoming. No one had ever loved him. Neither could he love anyone.

He felt sorrow for the man.

"Mad, once you kill him we can offer you a getaway. There's no need to commit suicide, I mean. We can send you to another country, South America maybe." the shyster offered.

"Once I kill him the only place that I wanna escape is from life itself and the only place that I wanna go is to hell."

They stayed silent for a long time and glanced at each other.

Madoc was depressed.

Wells thought that Parry was not in his right mind indeed, that perhaps, he hadn't been the best of lawyers since he hadn't been able to prove that he was not a sane man.

He felt guilty for his incompetence.

"_How come the jury didn't realize that Madoc Parry was crazy?"_

How come he couldn't have been able to prove it?

It was a fleeting moment. However, after some time thinking, the moment Madoc started talking again Wells realized that the Jury had been right...

"You know Johnny, after having him and ripping him in two and kill him, I'm gonna shoot myself in my heart. My death will be forever linked to that magnificent specimen of a man. I'll be the one who defeats him. Everybody's gonna know how capable I can be."

Madoc Parry was not an insane man; he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He was just a monster.

The jury had been right.

Jonathan Wells stood.

"Where do you think you're going?" the inmate asked his defense lawyer. "'Far from Folsom prison, that's where I want to stay, and I'd let that lonesome whistle blow my blues away...'" Parry started singing and laughed viciously.

"You ain't no Johnny Cash, Parry," Wells said, disgusted.

"Cash, yeah I am. No pun intended. What an irony, isn't it? That's all you care about me, my money. So don't play the 'holier than thou' thing with me. You ain't better than I am."

And the lawyer called the Penitentiary Guard and left the room.

**********************S&H************************

During the past two months, Caroline had been able to know the real man behind Starsky.

The real man who was now trying to resurface after the pain. And, after all.

In the past, she had fantasized many times whether she loved him or not. She had asked herself secretly, whether she was acting out of sorrow and pain because the man was going to die, and she just commiserated. But today, after two months of living without ghosts, she had found out that she was completely in love with him. '_In love'_ and all the synonyms that could express that same feeling.

She was besotted with him, captivated by such a splendid man; not only since he was so physically appealing and gorgeous but also because he was much more than that.

Starsky was affectionate and sober, calm and detonating. He was lively even in his sickness, and he was a vigorous man. He could be emotional and grounded, and never timid to express his feelings. Above all, he was loyal and trustworthy. Strong. Emotionally present because he was profoundly altruistic, always.

He could be crummy and neat.

Mystical and earthy.

Man and child.

He could be everything.

He was her everything.

A man who was always there for the ones he loved.

Wherever he went, Starsky carried his natural optimism and joie de vivre, his sense of justice and righteousness, so respectful of his and the other people's emotions.

Self-assured to be himself without any reservations, he knew he was good at almost everything, and he transmitted that certainty to whoever his occasional victim was.

She felt bewitched by him, lovesick for him.

She had fallen under his love spell and she devoted to him.

It was 12th April, Thursday.

It was springtime.

The March equinox had moved the Earth's axis just like Starsky had moved her life's axis from the very first day when she had met him. The beach was way too windy and tumultuous, the same as their lives had been at the very beginning of their story together in which they had lived in turmoil. It was sometimes overcast, sometimes sunny, but mild and smooth too like the Californian weather ever was.

As their times together were.

Beneath the galaxy, she could see planetary shadows revealed that mingled with the new blue sky. The not so very copious winter's rains had ended and had left the area as lush and green as it was going to get. The Jacarandas had bloomed in their purple rain.

Stargazer and freesias were color splashing the city, and so were the Californian Bays surrounded by their fantastic fragrance. The air smelled fresh and new. Everybody had noticed the burst of life, even the seagulls that gathered on the shore. And like nature, during the past two months, Starsky had blossomed just like springtime itself.

She felt humbled at such an expression of natural and infinite love.

And thankful.

God loved her. Dave's life had been amnestied in the name of her love, and he had been reborn.

Starsky was sitting on the sand. Tanned and rested, and he was wearing his sunglasses. Both his arms were supporting his entire muscled torso that was barely covered with a white sweatshirt. He was looking into the sea, to the horizon afar, in silence. From a distance, she could tell that he was breathing slowly and peacefully. As if he was throbbing.

Tomorrow, the doctors were going to tell him if the treatment had been successful...

From the deck, she could see him, all sprawled and carefree. Blue like the ocean, brown like the sand.

Perfect.

He was a lovely sight to see, and she couldn't help but get to where he was.

She approached him from behind and crouched since she could hardly move. Her womb had gained so much space in her body because she was one month away from the due date.

"Hey, what are you doing here, sweetheart? It's a long walk from the house to the shore, and you are…"

"Giant! I know! I'm amorphic, chunky! Feel like Dumbo!" she interrupted him.

He took off his sunglasses and took a look at her gorgeous face and her even more beautiful belly. He tried not to laugh, but he couldn't resist. He burst into the most rapturous laughter she could have ever dared to imagine. At that time, she thought that his killer grin and his ecstatic blue eyes were a vision that worth her comment.

"If you give me another burst of laughter like this one, again, I can address myself with many different names, sweetie." she offered.

He giggled shyly.

"Don't hide your smile Dave, it's as beautiful as it can be. Even the most little of your smiles overshadows the landscape."

They kissed.

He stayed looking at her, into her eyes like the color of the seafloor. Lately, he had decided that to relishing life meant living every day to its fullest. Breathing it, contemplating a landscape or listening to good music. Eating, drinking and making love and taking a bath in the ocean and riding his Torino. Those tiny things, those genuine feelings to feel, and profound senses to sense, meant life and had become into spiritual orgasms for him. And he decided that since he would have the time to prove what he had said on New Year's Eve, he would honor his words. He was going to be positive, and he was always going to see the bright side of things.

That day, surrounded by his dear ones with the certainty that it would be his last New Year's Eve he had pledged to redefine the future.

See the future from that other perspective.

"_The future means the next hour, the next second, tomorrow and the next year"_; so he decided that he would be living each moment positively because each one of every moment contained a little future.

And his future had arrived.

Starsky was eager to take advantage of nature since it was evident that Nature wanted him alive. And he would grant it, and he would be even more alive than he had never been before, feeling useful and helpful to the others and enjoying everything that God and Nature had put in his reach.

And even with more wisdom.

"Hey! Are you worried? What are you thinking of, Motek?" she asked him.

He sighed. "I'm thinking about the baby, that I wanna be the best of fathers. A happy, complete and satisfied dad."

"You are not happy, honey? She asked him.

"No, I _AM_ happy, I'm euphoric," he made a pause and sighed, "but I'm not complete."

"The way I see it you are very well built." She wrapped her arms mischievously around herself in a romantic gesture and mocked him. "I don't see you lacking any part in you... Come on, Dave, you'll be a rad one, the best of dads." She smiled softly and gave him a kiss on his cheek; she had no doubts about it.

He chuckled; he was thinking about other things...

There was one thing still missing in his life at the moment, and he felt incomplete without it. Although the last news was promising, there were not enough. He had realized that after serving for more than thirteen years in the Force, his life as a Policeman should be part of his future, too.

And to get back his life was his purpose since there wouldn't be a complete Starsky until the day he can do his job again. He felt that his reinstatement should happen as soon as possible after they confirm him that the treatment had been successful, even before little David's birth.

He couldn't wait anymore.

He wanted to welcome his baby feeling complete, not like the amputee he felt he was since last June when he already had lost such a significant part of his life.

His life as a cop.

He realized that his job was more than an obligation another pleasure for him. He knew he loved it so much, as much as he loved life itself.

He needed to get back to doing it.

To feel those sensations, above all.

Only being a cop, he would feel healthy and fully recovered.

*********************S&H**********************

"How are you feeling, David?"

Starsky was sitting at Murray's Office in Memorial Hospital. He was alone. He had decided that he wanted to go alone to face the news. After all, he had lots of decisions to make. "Pretty good. Aside from the fact that I tired more quickly than I would like to," he shrugged "I'm okay, I feel fine."

"That's good and also correct. The effects of these drugs can make you feel a little weak, but besides that, you feel okay?"

Starsky nodded in silence; he was expecting to gather the force to ask his doctor whether he would be fit for work.

"That's great; excellent and very pleasant to listen. I believe you. Besides, all the tests that we've performed and the Pet came back okay too." Murray stood up; the doctor moved to where Starsky was sitting and soundly announced, "Well David, the treatment has been entirely successful. We're going to continue with the protective doses and bi-monthly check-ups, but for now, you are quite healthy."

"Healthy?" the brunet asked thrilled.

"That's the word, David, healthy!"

Starsky broke with emotion. No words, no gestures were needed. With his eyes closed, with only shed tears, he released the tension. That was the way he was for almost twenty minutes and Dr. Murray didn't dare to interrupt him until he could recover. John hugged him, and he hugged him back. It was a poignant moment for both of them, the doctor, and his patient.

"So what am I gonna do next?" he asked finally.

"What about living? Would you like it?" the doctor knew pretty well the ebullient nature of his patient and thought that it was about time that he could live with fewer restrictions.

They both smiled.

"Normal life?"

"Well, David, define normal. I mean, it depends on what ordinary life is for you."

Starsky sighed, "Well, taking just one or two pills per day's pretty standard. Eating burritos would be regular, and neither coughing or throwing up nor queasiness. Perhaps going to dance, maybe going back to work…, " he ventured.

"Skipping the burritos' part, I guess it'll be okay. Just two pills, maybe three if something hurts particularly hard and yes David, you can contact the Tier Committee and start your reinstatement paperwork. From now on, you're cleared for light work."

Starsky fled from Memorial straight to Metro.

He didn't even care to go to see Caroline. He only called her on the phone, telling the girl the good news, and he asked her for some time out until he could go to start the paperwork to the Precinct. He needed to start it and get his life back. The part of his being which defined him.

The job, doing the job. Being a cop again.

She understood.

********************S&H********************

He entered Metro. Hutch wasn't at the Squad room. He wasn't at the Cafeteria either; he called Minnie and nothing. Nobody knew where he was. He couldn't help it; he couldn't wait for Hutch for getting back so he decided he would share the news with Dobey. He went straight to the Captain's Office and told him.

The Captain was visibly shocked by the news.

Happily shocked.

"It's so, so good to have you back, son." The big man said after an endless hug and on the verge of breaking.

Suddenly someone knocked on the door.

It was Hutch.

When the blond entered the office and saw that Starsky was standing with his back to the door and Dobey was crying, at first, he thought the worst. It took a little time for him to realize that his Captain's tears were of blessedness, joyful tears.

Next thing he saw, when his partner turned around to meet his eyes was Starsky's magnificent grin.

They merged into a long embrace.

Starsky was full of happiness.

Hutch was full of joy and fear too.

His fellow officers at Headquarters felt significantly moved by the news. After Starsky had gone, in the Squadron, everybody started gossiping about the brunet's return, making assumptions whether he would be back or if he would be able to work his beat again or not.

Simmons and Babcock started planning a party of sorts, just to honor Starsky and to give him a proper welcome.

Minnie was exultant. She wandered through the hallways like an apostle telling the good news to everyone who wanted to hear.

Everybody.

Richard Dryden was one of them.

*******************S&H*********************

"My job. I miss my job, Hutch. What's so difficult to understand? When can I go back to work, then?"

They were sitting at The Pits; they were eating the biggest sloppy Joe's sandwich that Starsky's stomach could take and could think of when he asked Hutch about it.

"Buddy, hey. I thought that Murray had already told you; so now you only have to wait for the verdict from the Tier people, don't you?" Hutch trusted that the Tier Committee might not let him go back yet. But he didn't want Starsky to notice his fears and reservations. He knew that his partner hated being the center of his concerns, he hated being the motive of his legendary mother hen mood. Hutch continued saying, "But buddy, listen, I was just thinking... Why don't you wait until the baby's born?"

Starsky didn't answer. He hoped that the good news might have finally sunk in everybody's minds, at least in Hutch's mind. It had been very long since he had been waiting for that to happen. He knew that it would take his partner much more time than to the others to accept that he was fit for work. And he had been able to wait. Hutch also knew that Starsky had been waiting. So it didn't surprise anyone, let alone to his partner, that the brunet wanted to talk about the dreaded topic.

The time had come.

"I wanna get back, and you don't want me to," The brunet man said bluntly.

"That's not it, and you know, Starsk." the blond-haired man interrupted him.

"So when would it be the right time, Hutch, please?"

No matter the positive news, Hutch couldn't help but feel utterly scared about Starsky's return to the Force. He knew that he should overcome his angst if he wanted to help his buddy back.

And he would do.

Although his dismay, the blonde-haired man, also missed his partner already. He decided that he would be by Starsky's side, supporting him and helping him coming back, whatever it takes if that was what his friend wanted to do.

Whatever he wanted him to do he would do.

But Hutch was worried; behind his mind, he couldn't shed light on the exact reason he still felt the same uneasiness and dreamt those same dreams, but he would do.

The blond continued talking, "I don't know when it would be the best of times. You can be back anytime, but my advice is that you should be not until little David's birth. I mean I think that you should be with Cary now. The end of May, or maybe the end of June, it'll be a good time to try to reinstate." Hutch said bluntly.

He knew Starsky damn well; he wouldn't let his friend convince him otherwise or worst, he was not going to let him jeopardize his recovery with his anxiety and eager nature.

"After the baby? Hutch! That's one and a half month ahead! Two months ahead! Why do I have to wait that long? I don't wanna think regarding future. Life's happening now. One more month, one more day. I need to make my future a present time" Suddenly he lost his sight, "I still don't know if there would be a future. That's what I have learned. I'm not sure if I will have a future or not; if you will have a future or not either. I have the certainty that I have this present, and I wanna make it count. What happened to me affected my thinking. You and me, working. That's all that matters. Maybe not in the streets, I'm not stupid but working together. I won't risk my dream like that, waiting in vain. I'll go and take it like I always did. Life is fragile, buddy. I don't know if I have a future."

"You'll have it Starsk. Your future. It's yours!" Starsky turned his face toward Hutch again; the blond sounded determined and sure "And I want it to be ours. I want to share my future with you, and I'm gonna make it happen, buddy. I promise that you'll have a future and I'll see to it. I will protect you, I'll take care of you, and I'll be by your side every step of your way. Don't keep me apart again, please? I'm not gonna let you down, buddy; never, not again. I'll be with you, always."

"You've never let me down, Hutch," Starsky said with a cracked voice.

"Okay! And I won't; I'll protect you even more than I did before. Now that I almost lose you again, pal..." Hutch sighed, "I couldn't have survived your loss. Protecting you's like protecting me. I realized that I need you like the air I breathe, by my side, and I promise that we'll have our future together, buddy. Trust me! Me and thee." Hutch said, full of emotion and sure of it.

Starsky nodded, excitedly and patted Hutch on his shoulder.

"Thanks…"

The moment was poignant, but then Hutch shouldn't let the emotion conquer him. He should be watchful and think about Starsky's recovery as well as in his future. "However, I insist! I believe that before being reinstated, you should first wait until little David's born. What did Murray tell you, anyway? Did he talk about remission?"

"Hutch! You already know! Remission would be possible in a six months term from my next tests!"

"And when those tests would be?" the blond said anxiously.

"Well, he's scheduled a new CT scan and Pet for the mid of June. At that time, it would have been more than two months since the last one, and if they come back okay, then, it'll take six more months until remission. So, it will happen if it happens, at the end of February, next year."

"It will happen! And it's gonna be just great! So you can enjoy little David and then get back to work, see?"

"No! I won't wait until next year to get back to work!" Starsky said astonished.

Hutch couldn't accept the fact that Starsky can be in any danger again, and, that was what being a Policeman signified, unfortunately. "But you should be completely recovered to come back, buddy.", he insisted.

"Hutch, I AM fully recovered. Murray said that I'm healthy!"

"Oh, come on! Healthy, healthy! It's still very dangerous, Starsk!"

"Buddy, I won't discuss this with you." Starsky knew that he was hurting Hutch, scaring him. So he stopped and hid his sight from the eyes of his friend, a little bit ashamed. He sighed and lowered his tone. "Besides, I didn't tell you but, I've already done it," he hesitated.

"You what?!" Hutch asked.

"I've already submitted to the employee's supervisor's Office my request for temporary light-duty assignments… I - I wanna be reinstated, buddy, and as soon as possible," Starsky said hurriedly. Hutch frowned. "You didn't give me the chance to tell you before" the brunet ended.

"And what Murray was thinking of? You didn't ask him, did you?"

"Well, he gave me the certificate to provide to the Administrative Services personally."

Hutch felt cornered and aghast.

Starsky was coming back and with him, his fears and nightmares.

"Hutch?"

"Yeah, yeah!"

"You're not happy," Starsky said, he knew.

"Of course I am."

"I'm sorry, buddy. I'm sorry that I make you unhappy this time, but this, I just can't help it."

"It's okay, everything will be all right." Hutch recovered his coolness and demeanor; he did it for his friend. "But tell me, what did Murray inform in his report then, buddy?"

"Well, he told the authorities, the assessment of my cancer and its nature and probable duration, the prognosis for my recovery, the more critical job's restrictions, and such things…"

"That's crazy. You're still recovering and weak and, Oh Man! I used to like Murray, trusted him" Hutch shook his head, "but not like this. This is insane!""

"Hutch..." they shared their glances. Hutch knew, being beside Starsky for so long, that he wouldn't convince him otherwise. "Don't be scared. I won't do anything that I'm not ready to, I promise, I won't compromise my health. No one but me wants to live, Hutch!"

"Here you come again," Hutch said rolling his eyes with infinite tenderness, he knew damn well about his friend's tenacity. "What am I gonna do with you, Starsk?"

The brunet shrugged and raised his eyebrows.

A moving silence permeated the air.

"Come and love me? Again?" The brunet offered and winked.

The blond shook his head. "Never stopped loving you!"

Starsky smiled and caressed Hutch's hand that was resting on the table with a silent thank you.

He raised his glass of beer up to the sky and bowed his head.

And so did Hutch.

They toasted to their lives together, to their lives as cops together.

What 'Me and Thee' meant to each other,

… The Hell they knew.

********************S&H**********************

The Polo Lounge at the Beverly Hills Hotel in the most expensive part of the city was a fancy restaurant. Paul Lancaster usually sealed his most relevant and significant businesses at his customary booth in that Restaurant.

This was no exception.

He made an appointment with Richard Dryden and Jonathan Wells. The secluded table at the remote corner of the private saloon would be the perfect place to have so needed intimacy. It would provide them confidentiality.

"And you say that he's being reinstated, now? In full duty?" Lancaster asked Dryden.

"Starting today, yes. Starsky submitted the petition fifteen days ago, and the Committee cleared him since today. But no, not in full activity, just light work. Paperwork perhaps, as an alternative, and only at the Precinct. He won't be able to perform his regular assignments temporarily at least until he ends his convalescence, and he'll be fit again." He put the fork with the crab salad into his mouth and chewed ostensibly.

"How long it would take? That's a real problem." the tall man with salt and pepper hair said. He couldn't take his eyes off of Dryden's uncouth manners.

"Well, usually light-duty assignments are strictly temporary, and they shouldn't exceed six months in duration." The cop licked his index finger and picked up a breadcrumb from the tablecloth and put it into his mouth. "I hate to say that everybody's exceedingly happy and condescending with Starsky so he could be an exception but, usually, it wouldn't take more than six months. There are alternatives anyway, but that's the way it works. Usually at the end of October or November perhaps, he'll be on the streets again." he shrugged.

"So it'll be..." Lancaster nodded.

"Yeah, though I think that it's gonna take him a little more time concerning the severity of his illness. I mean I don't see him until next year doing his beat. I guess that never before; he wouldn't be on the streets before," Dryden took a sip of champagne. "But tell me which is the importance of killing him doing his job?" he finished.

"It isn't important now, used to be. I was only asking, wondering. In the past, we went to a lot of troubles to do them while they were on duty, we wanted to give the Police a message back then, that's all. But that was before," Lancaster settled the napkin over his lap, "now we just want to kill him and destroy his partner. We're sure that he's gonna be an easy target after his convalescence; that's all. Besides, it would be terribly painful, wouldn't it? After struggling against cancer…" the cynic old man smiled, "That would be the message to deliver… that we always win, and that we can be worst than anything, lethal." he finished and toasted his glass of champagne with the treacherous police officer.

"Yeah and I'll be very satisfied when that happens. Everybody's so damned happy about his recovery." Dryden shook his head annoyed, "The man has this uncanny ability to be so easily loved. Oh, I hate him because of that! Both of them." he pushed the dish with food to the center of the table; its contents almost fell from the plate.

"Well, it's a significant and persistent recovery!" Lancaster added, stating the obvious and rejoicing in Dryden's desperation.

"I agree," Wells added, speaking for the first time, "When I saw him in Court I found that the man has the courage and resolve. I don't know, something about the way he moves and the cadence in which he talks, made him both spellbinding and charming to me. And at the same time menacing; Starsky can be steady and scary! Just like his partner." Wells shrugged, "Yes, I'm sure he can be pretty popular with his fellow officers, besides... his attachment for life's overwhelming. Even I feel pity for myself to planning his death."

They all smiled viciously.

"Now you get emotional, counselor?" Dryden asked.

"No, I'm not! I'm just stating something that's obvious and something that I think we should pay attention to and don't relax about. I mean he's a pretty hard nut to crack!" Wells gestured.

"Yes, he's proved many times to be a hard business," Paul Lancaster's added. It would be his third attempt to get rid of Starsky.

"Many times? I only knew about one," Wells asked curiously.

Dryden hurriedly to answer. "Three times, Wells. It would be the third attempt, at least that I'm involved into, isn't it?" he asked Lancaster.

"That's correct. Your intervention, though unsuccessful, has been significant both at the Parking Lot and at the Hospital, revealing his position first and then provoking the almost mortal setback with the tainted medication while he was recovering. Now I wish you could make a point here."

"Oh! Thanks for your confidence." The cop said sarcastically. "But I guess that this time, I mean... Come on! The man has delighted us long enough. I think it's time for him to go now. I'm sure that there won't be any problem; we're gonna get rid of him, easily."

"Because he is sick?" Wells asked concerned. The lawyer wasn't so sure.

"And as weak as a kitten! I'm telling you; this is my third time, and you know that these things always come in threes. Time's out now!" Dryden laughed at his vacuous, wry comment.

"People that are not scared, scare me Dryden, and I - we use to get rid of the people that scare us." Lancaster suddenly added, bitterly and out of nowhere.

Dryden stayed put for the harsh comment.

Wells dropped the fork involuntarily.

"But don't worry. We'll have enough time until the end of the year to lay out a proper operation. Besides, we have to wait until the legal strategy pays off. After that, nobody's gonna stop us, either prevent us from doing it. We are going to act, appropriately, clean and skillfully. So when is it going to happen, attorney?" Lancaster asked Wells.

"The legal terms?"

"Yes."

"Well, according to the usual terms of the Appeal State Court, in three to four months maybe," the man with the heavy glasses said knowingly.

"So that would leave us in August or September." Lancaster reasoned.

"October, maybe."

"Okay, so it could be October or November, whenever. And if it doesn't work?"

"Then, we're gonna wait for the Federal Court's decision, which could take two more months, at least," Wells answered; Dryden kept silent witnessing the exchange of legal procedures.

"You mean next year?"

"Naturally, next year, yes."

"Okay. You, 'Dick' be careful, don't hasten and keep us informed, you understand? Dryden?" Lancaster almost shouted to the speechless man in front of him. The shocked cop nodded still unable to utter a sound. "I want to know how he is, where he is, everything about his wife and his son… and his partner, of course." Paul Lancaster was clear enough about maintaining strict surveillance over the still fragile detective. He wouldn't let any loose end this time, no matter how sick the dark-haired man could be.

"Is he already a father?" Wells asked Dryden.

"No, he's not. It's a few days to the baby's birth; that's what I heard. But just for the record, you know, Lancaster, a couple of months ago, I struck up a nice friendship with his wife. She's as innocent as a four-year-old girl. I mean, you want me to go in that direction? By hurting her or hurting his child, maybe?" The cop was so anxious to get his revenge that Lancaster thought that he was going to be an easy target and a soon to would be disposable for the Organization as well.

"No way! You're cruelly stupid, Dryden and also ineffective!" The old and vicious man said flabbergasted, "I don't think that it would be necessary. Maybe just a little scare, but that would be all. I want him dead. Only him! I believe that we can get rid of him easier than we think, considering how frail he will be for a while, won't he? Use your brain, Dryden!" The black cop nodded. "By the way, what do the Doctors say, when is he going to get into remission?" Lancaster asked him.

"From what I heard, after one year without recurrence, not before, Mr. Lancaster. Just then, they can speak about remission." Dryden clarified.

"And when that would be?"

"Starsky said that next year, in February it would be. One year after his favorable diagnosis."

"Good! The deadlines meet."

"Which deadlines?" The black cop asked curiously.

"You can be a jerk, Dick! The remission and the full reinstatement, what else? Both things will happen in 6 to 9 months. But obviously both of them next year." Paul Lancaster nodded satisfied; it occurred to him that they could develop an excellent idea, "You said February? So maybe we can wait until St. David's Day, until March, I mean. Wouldn't it be fantastic?" Lancaster speculated, and they all laughed.

"Yeah, that would be just great, don't forget about how interested Parry was about that day," Dryden said exhilarated. "Wait until he knows. He could even plan everything, what do you think?" he asked Wells.

"That's a great idea! Mad will be delighted, and it'll work to his entire satisfaction". The lawyer added

"And unwittingly maybe you can get more bucks because of it. A sign isn't it?" Lancaster added.

"Yes!"

Jonathan Wells was also delighted with the idea.

"Okay, attorney, signed, sealed and delivered. Sounds like a great plan. Let's do it!"

And they left the restaurant.

*******************S&H********************

As times went by, Starsky started feeling more laid back, he felt that the people around him were more comfortable lately, too and he felt that he could handle a lot more situations with ease. In the beginning, right after his reinstatement, it had been difficult for him to avoid the curious looks of any given colleague. They looked at him in a strange way as if he were a freaking miracle which was walking through the hallways of the Station.

He knew he was.

Every day, during the past fourteen days, after kissing Caroline goodbye, he had faced the Station, and with that, all the Police's stuff he had longed for so much time and wanted to enjoy, too. However, sometimes, the situation had turned up to be a little oppressive.

He loved to be a cop, but a real one.

He didn't want to be the mediocre and boring office clerk that he had been transformed into. His life was dull and monotonous, out of the streets. The danger was his element.

He wanted to fly through the Bay City's alleys in wild chases aboard his Torino; skid out of it and jump over the hood after running into a suspect in hot pursuits.

He even missed the close calls.

He missed being in danger.

He missed being Starsky, again, the real one.

But he knew he couldn't do it, that he had to wait.

Sometimes he was jumpy; he felt sorrow for himself many times, and it was not fun at all. He knew that becoming a cop would subject him to an unpredictable and dangerous lifestyle he still couldn't endure, yet he was reckless. Everyday Hutch had to remind him of the potential violence that each day contained. After the shooting in '79, neither the Station seemed to be safe for the blond.

Still wasn't.

He reminded himself too, every time he put his vest on.

Hutch didn't allow him to get out of his house and to go to the Station without it, and he granted, he knew that other attitude on his behalf would endanger the blond blintz.

However, regardless of his boredom, he was aware that even doing the paperwork was better than staying at home; besides he wouldn't be able to do anything different.

He also remembered that.

The reports had never been the most attractive part of his job, but then, since he always thought tactically, he was very useful to his fellow officers. He provided them clues about the investigations they were working on and that fact made him feel helpful and valuable.

He closed his eyes and was the Starsky he had always been.

He let his mind fly, run and jump through each report and investigation on which he was working. He could always count on his friends, to have fun in the Precinct; to share a donut and make the morning even more attractive, and give him some company to rebuild his life as a cop.

That was what he was doing, rebuilding his life.

Slowly.

He arrived early at the station that day, took his customary seat at his desk and started to catch up with reports.

Damn reports that he even loved, lately.

At 10.15, he was talking with an elderly woman who was frightened because her door was opened when she got home. She told Starsky that she remembered having shut it and locked it, so she didn't dare to enter her house. She was asking the Brunet, who was delighted listening, to come to her house and makes sure it was safe and that no one had broken in when the phone rang...

"Starsky, it's your wife."

He raised his eyes to Mac Allister's voice that came from his extension.

"Thanks, Mac. Excuse me, lady," he said to the old woman.

Starsky stood and picked up the phone.

"Hi sweetie, what's going on?"

"Hi, Motek, please? On your way back home can you go to Canter's and bring me a Philly Cheese Steak?"

"A Philly Cheese Steak?" The dark-haired man opened his eyes astonished, "It's half-past ten in the morning, honey! I wouldn't be home until 5 PM. You want me to go for lunch? Are you okay?" He said with utter dismay.

"No, I'm all right. I just remember the time when we went to Canter's, and I ate that delicious sandwich, that's all. Remember that day?"

"Well, I don't exactly remember it, but... I'll be there with the sandwich in no time, all right? I love you, both of you."

"I love you too."

He shook his head with a sweet smile on his face and hung up while he sighed.

Mac said, "Food craving?"

"Yeah." He shrugged, and the other cop laughed.

Sometimes he felt that there was a universe between him and his lady when it came to the baby. Those feelings that she could feel and he couldn't feel had made him a little bit jealous too, but it's nature he thought. He couldn't have it all.

He put his pencil over his ear and got back to the elderly lady who was also smiling before his bewilderment. She had heard.

"Your wife's pregnant?" she said lovingly.

"Oh yeah, we're near the delivery date." He sighed.

"You'll see, everything's gonna be alright, boy." she caressed his arm softly.

"Thank you. I'm still nervous. This is our first baby and, well," He smiled shyly and shrugged again.

The old woman put her hand over his and squeezed it "You're a young and caring man, you'll be an excellent father."

Starsky nodded; he felt deeply moved by the woman's words.

Half an hour later, Starsky's extension rang again. He was at Dobey's Office.

Hutch had just entered the Squadron, so he picked up the phone. It was Caroline.

"No, I'm not Starsky, I'm Hutch. Caroline, listen to me! You're excited!"

At the mention of the lady's name, Starsky came out from Dobey's office and stood beside him immediately. He was worried, half an hour ago he had already talked to her on the phone, and she seemed to be all right, he assumed that something might have happened that she had called again.

"Oh yes, Hutch! I'm sorry, put me Dave on the phone, please? Is he there?" The girl said anxiously.

"Yes! He's here. You okay?"

Starsky's eyes were like two pools; he was in awe and expectation.

The blond gave him the phone and shrugged.

"What's going on, babe?" The brunet asked worriedly.

"I passed my mucus plug!" she shouted excited.

Starsky opened his eyes and mouth and sat down. He thought that he would collapse. Hutch followed his movements with extreme anxiety.

"That means that I have to go and pick you up and take you to the Hospital?" he almost stuttered barely audible.

At the mention of the Hospital, Hutch started moving nervously. He went to his chair, pulled his holster and his jacket, and took Starsky's jacket too.

"Oh no! There's still a lot of time ahead. I didn't even have my Braxton Hicks contractions, honey!" she told him calmer.

"So what? You said your water broke!"

At the time, Hutch's eyes were also like two pools. He was standing beside Starsky and trying to calm him, hardly achieving from calming himself.

"I didn't say that my water broke, Dave! I've just passed my mucus plug", she emphasized, "but I'm not into labor. Calm down! It could be days until it starts. I just thought that you would like to know, that's all."

"But are you sure that I don't have to go now and pick you up and take you to the Hospital? I can put my red cherry on top and go rushing over there in a jiffy."

"And you can get yourself killed, too! No! You forgot I'm a doctor? I'm telling you that it's not our time yet, be calm. Besides, you have an errand to do, you forgot? I still want you to go to Canter's before coming home, okay?" she said full of happiness.

"Suddenly I lost my appetite, Cary; I don't believe that you're still hungry!"

"I'm your wife, what else? Maybe that says it all" She giggled "And I'm starving," She said impersonating Starsky. She smiled, they both smiled.

Hutch smiled too.

Three hours later, the phone rang again.

This time he had to put the cherry on the Torino's roof.

It was May 15, 1984.

Tuesday.

For Starsky, life was coming in full circle.

* * *

**ACT 47 \- REBORN -**

They arrived at the Hospital at 3.00 PM, and the doctors began working and prepping Cary for the labor.

For Starsky, it was the more stressful and terrifying moment he had experienced in his whole life. A close match to his cancer or the Parking Lot shooting or Bellamy and he couldn't keep calm. He was a bundle of nerves.

Hutch could barely keep him at bay.

He paced the Hospital, mumbling in an unintelligible language and strolled through the hallways restlessly.

He was a spurt of energy.

For most the pregnancy he had been fighting the paralyzing feeling that he had experienced at the possibility of never meet his child and to be just a spectator of only a few little moments of happiness. Aside from the fact that he had been ill during almost the nine months term, when he recovered, he hadn't realized the magnitude of the situation. The rich fullness of joy that his impending parenthood was going to bring him.

When they told him that he was healthy enough and that he would be able to see the baby, he started enjoying the sensations but without a comprehensive understanding of its meaning. After all, he was a man, so when Caroline called telling him that labor's day had arrived it dawned on him the real emotional rollercoaster of what it was going to happen.

Nothing was different than what other fathers experienced. But this was Starsky, and with him, there was no standard at all.

He was full of symptoms and also full of zest! And he was experiencing a sense of urgency which he could barely keep up with. Hutch tried to suggest him that he should save his energy, but it was no use. Despite his healthy condition, he was still a convalescent so the blond was afraid he would collapse anytime, and it worried him.

"_Nobody dies of happiness, Hutch!"_

_"I know, but you have to take care of yourself. You're still weak enough to experience such tremendous burst of joy that you're going through, buddy. Look at you! You're not walking, you're galloping all over the place like a runaway horse, and you must stay calm. Starsk, please? Don't forget that you should be strong enough to take care of the baby and Cary, they need you safe and sound, Pal."_ the blond had tried to make him think over.

However, the brunet was so motivated that he started making lists of things to do, things to clean, things to buy, and everything he could do.

In fact, he was like nesting.

Hutch tired of seeing his buddy's moves only.

The brunet talked and ate. He sat; he stood. He assaulted the vending machine systematically.

From the moment they had left Caroline with the doctors until the moment they allowed him to enter the room in which she had been taken to and where she was waiting for him, he was in motion.

Starsky was frantic though it was a terrific show to witness.

Suddenly, for the first time in Hutch's life, the walls of Memorial had turned into a magical and beautiful space. As if he were in a loop of time, they had returned him his partner back. His friend, the old Starsky, was back and still was the same endearing and strikingly alluring person who he was five years ago before Gunther, Cancer, and devastation. God bless his loveliness. Life couldn't be better.

When Dr. Stewart and the midwife called him, they both stayed paralyzed for a brief moment, and Starsky began to stutter until they merged into a long embrace.

For Hutch, it was time to let go, despite their mutual need and affection; he knew it was the time for them to separate and face the great moment alone.

Their eyes met.

"You're becoming a father, at last," Hutch said on the verge of breaking though he tried so hard not to. Starsky nodded equally emotional, and the flaxen-haired man wished him well, "Break a leg! Go 'n get 'em, tiger!" he motioned his head toward Starsky allowing him to go, and Starsky hugged him unable to speak and hopped up into the hallway through the sliding doors.

They carried Caroline to the Delivery Room.

For Starsky, those steps were the longest trip he had ever made in Memorial. And he had made some.

A little past 5.17 PM, they delivered the head, chest, and both arms.

A few minutes later, they delivered the baby.

Little David was born at 5.20. He weighed 8.37 pounds and was 20.86 inches long.

Starsky cut the umbilical cord; beforehand, he had asked Dr. Stewart to do it, and the doctor granted him.

David was a healthy and beautiful boy from whom Starsky couldn't take his eyes off.

The moment the neonatologist weighed the baby and did the Apgar score, Starsky went to comfort Cary. The girl was still dizzy because of the epidural, so was he, but because of the excitement. The doctors didn't know to whom of them pay more attention.

David Starsky was not an ordinary dad; in fact, he was far from being average, and everybody at Memorial knew him. They also knew his painful struggle to survive, his heroic endurance and story damn well. They knew the meaning of everything.

They all laughed at Starsky's witty remark when he heard for the first time little David giving his best cry.

"Hey, David, kiddo! Some lungs you've got, boy!"

"This means that he's doing well, that he's okay, Mr. Starsky!" The neonatologist informed him.

"The hell I know, Doc. He's got the most beautiful voice I've ever heard!" he said even more excited than before.

It was 15th May 1984, the day their world would change forever.

An hour later, at 7 PM, they let him enter the Maternity room where Cary was, and ten minutes later they brought the baby.

It was incredible that little David was finally there.

It was even more amazing that Starsky was there too.

He made a phone call to his mother in Brooklyn, but Nick answered. At the mention of the baby, the man broke into a big scream of joy. He was euphoric, but nothing matched Rachel's emotion when she heard her Davey tell her the news. She was like crazy and started crying full of excitement. The new Granny was dazed. She couldn't help but make lots of plans for her and the baby for the next summer vacation when Starsky would go to New York, as they had planned on Thanksgiving day.

Dobey and everybody at the Precinct was overwhelmed by the circumstances. Huggy was the first one to visit; he bought a beautiful musical mobile for the baby and a bouquet of flowers for Cary.

Starsky bought the biggest Teddy Bear he could find in the Hospital´s gift shop, and flowers too. As a result of what and since the nurses didn't allow the visitors to put flowers in the rooms, the hallway that led to Caroline's was full of vases with them.

Everybody was excited in Memorial and the Department though nobody compared with Hutch's happiness.

The first time the blond man entered the room and saw Starsky's firstborn, he started crying sweet tears of joy. He took some time to gather his feelings staring at the beautiful boy.

He approached the cradle and gave the baby his welcome in a sort of Grimm's Fairy Tale.

It was the sweetest moment they could ever recall.

"You know, Davey boy that your parents are the most incredible man and the most beautiful woman I've ever seen in the whole world?" Hutch raised his serene eyes to Starsky and Caroline. She was in bed, cuddled up in his husband's strong arms, and they were both listening in earnest to the blond's words, so he continued. "Some time ago, they were very sad that perhaps you couldn't be able to see your father alive. We were all very sorry, baby." He sighed, "We all had one pain that could not be described."

Caroline stretched her left hand, caught Hutch's in hers and squeezed it. The two intertwined their glassy glances and remembered those sad times they would hardly forget. Hutch nodded while he swallowed the lump that he had in his throat until he looked at the baby again and kept talking to him. "We had done all which was possible in the world, David. We had made all the vows, pilgrimages, all ways had been tried, and all seemed to no purpose. But at last, in the final fraction of the time, however, God saved your father and granted him the possibility to see you, keeping him safe and healthy for you and all of us." Hutch stopped for a fraction of seconds. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes. He didn't dare to see to where Starsky and Caroline were utterly silent. He could only hear them sob.

Caroline had already lost the grip on him, so he took the baby's hand, amazed at the way the little boy embraced his finger firmly and continued speaking to him slowly. "This moment, which you have been born, it's a very exquisite moment. And I know that my friend and his princess have for their godmothers all the fairies they could find in the whole city for you. I know every one of them might give you a gift, as is the custom of fairies in these early days of birth. I also know that, by this means, you, our prince, have all the perfections imaginable. My little boy..." Hutch stopped one last time and smiled softly at the baby to end finally, "I'm your Uncle, Hutch. I can offer many things, but you have already received the greatest gift in the world. God bless you that you have my buddy as your father. I only wish I could be your sprite forever since my gift for you, my baby, is to keep your daddy safe every day of my life. Always." And he gave the kid a small gold necklace that represented the infinity symbol.

The moment was memorable; the atmosphere, lovely. Hutch's words were of a sweetness difficult to forget.

Love could be sweet.

They hugged each other, cried and laughed all at the same time, full of joy and humility at the Almighty.

And after such an emotional time the three of them stared at the sleeping baby for two more hours, in silence.

The boy was beautiful.

He had little curls crowning his head, and they could see a glimpse of the blue the first time he opened his eyes for a tiny moment. He rested, moving his little fingers in a soft motion. He was peaceful in the middle of such an attentive and thoughtful audience.

They were that way, happy and serene, during some time.

At ten o'clock, the little boy woke up, and Cary started breastfeeding him. The smell of his mom had triggered his instincts, so he latched on correctly.

When the first diaper had to be changed, it was a moment of sorts. Although his big and strong hands, Starsky demonstrated that he was up to any challenge when it came to his baby. He did it with ease and handled the situation so lovingly that she couldn't help but break into tears.

She was sure Dave would be the best of fathers.

And he was.

*********************S&H*********************

"Cary, Day-Day's hungry," Starsky said when he arrived home from the Precinct.

"He isn't, Dave! He only needs to eat every four hours, and I have already fed him half an hour ago." Caroline stood up. She was watching TV when he entered the house and went to where the child lay in his crib. The little boy timidly complained and then, upon his daddy's arrival, he started grumbling even more increasingly. Caroline tried to calm the little baby.

"But he's crying!" He insisted, so he lifted little David and gave him to her.

"Honey, if you pick him up every time he cries he'll do it all the time. When you respond to his cues, he learns to continue giving them! You're going to spoil him!" she said as she cradled him in her arms.

"Spoil him? I ain't gonna spoil him! I can't hear him crying that's all!" He motioned the girl to give him the baby, so she did and he started nursing him, singing to him and bouncing while rocking him.

"You're gonna make him nervous." She reflected, and he rolled his eyes. "Dave, -she insisted- he started crying the minute you entered the house, and he heard your voice, honey. I've told you he has to eat every four hours."

"Four hours?" He opened his eyes horrified. "Why does he have to be submitted to such a strict schedule being him that little?! I eat when I'm hungry... well, most of the time. You remind me of Hutch, he never let me finish my food when we were on duty. In fact, he never let me finish my food at all! I rather starved to death beside him before I got sick! Being sick's the only way he cares about my nourishment," He growled confusedly.

"Speaking about duty." She took the baby from his arms again and soothe him. "That's ours. We have to teach him, raise him! That's our duty! So it's not a schedule! We cannot let him rule our lives. Simply like that!"

"Of course not! But I can read his mind, I can genuinely interpret his inner needs, and I'm telling you this boy's hungry!" He made funny faces to his baby and blew his lips in a gesture that Day-Day seemed to adore and even tried to mimic. The boy laughed. "See? I'm his father, and I can feel him. Atta boy!" Starsky said the last statement to the little child, proud of him.

"And I can also feel my boobs! Believe me, it's not time yet. Besides, I'm not a damn fundamentalist of 'La Leche League.'" She started going to the kitchen to prepare some coffee while Starsky pursued her. He squinted.

"Cary, the fact that you're a woman doesn't have to diminish me, neither grants you more knowledge than the one I have. You're a sexist! Of course, I'm a man and, I have no tits, but he's a man too, and I'm telling you that this boy's hungry. I know he is!"

"Dave, if you insist on interpreting his desires to such extent, he'll never be independent enough to go to school alone, or...or to summer camp!"

"Oh, come on! Which is the ratio between summer camp and being hungry?"

She gave him the baby, and he began patting him on the back while she burst into laughter and stopped him with a kiss right on his mouth. Starsky could be as tender as he could be. He reciprocated, though didn't seem to be convinced.

"Motek, you have to learn that you're his dad, okay." She opened her arms seeking comprehension and then carried on. "But you're not his personal hero, you shouldn't put your cape and fly over the city like Superman just to help him, or avoid him any harm. You can't save him from the world! You're enough of a hero for us, but I just don't want you to spoil him, that's all, okay?"

"You're too strict with him. He - he's just a little boy, he can't express himself."

"Oh yes, he can! Trust me, and relax. It's a long road and set some limits is the best way to raise him well. That's our mission as parents."

"I just wanna give him everything." He said overwhelmed.

"So do I!" She hugged him and smiled at her amazing husband. "You're everything; we, are everything. And that's good enough."

After four weeks, they learned.

Starsky learned everything that little David had to teach him.

They were utterly happy, and they were the best of parents little David could ask for.

*******************S&H********************

"I don't like to meet here like this; this is way too populous for me."

"Relax, Wells. We're far from everybody here. This part of town gives us the needed isolation. We're far enough from the Precinct and Century City and Santa Monica, of course." Dryden said matter of factly.

"He used to live a few blocks from here," Wells added worriedly.

"You're saying it! Used to live, past tense. Not now. We're safe here!"

Jonathan Wells felt uncomfortable, he thought that it was far too dangerous to meet Dryden in such a crowded place. "We're no one here; we don't belong to this part of town!" the black man added.

"Okay. But, I have some things to do so hurry up. Whaddaya want? Have you met the baby?"

They were sitting at a table in the City Cafe, Dryden was anxious to take things into matters and wanted Wells to help him convince Lancaster, and Parry about it.

"Oh yeah! He took him to the Station a while back. You should have seen him! He's the living image of his father. It's hard to believe how a baby can resemble his father so much. With only four months is like a shrunk Starsky. He has curls, and he is also tan! You believe him? His eyes are even bluer than those of him, and the boy's a bewitching and cute baby that everybody seems to adore. Just like him." Richard Dryden shook his head in utter revulsion.

"Man, you hate him, don't you?. You're talking about a baby for Christ's sake; maybe you can hide your disgust a little?. It disgusts me!"

"Out of my reach, Wells! I hate Starsky and everything related to him, even his baby. I'm waiting for Mr. Lancaster gives me a sign, something! I don't know. Maybe to allowing me to do something nasty to that wee boy. I wanna give Starsky a scare before he dies; that's why I want you to help me."

The lawyer frowned, confused. "You mean hurting the baby?" Wells blew out his cheeks and snorted. He made a face reluctantly.

"Or his lady, perhaps kidnap both of them." The cop's face lit up.

"What do you mean? Only to ambush Starsky by abducting them?" Jonathan Wells lowered his voice. He was nervous.

"Sort of. That would be a great booby trap, wouldn't it? Whaddaya think?" He winked.

"Yeah... That would be just great! But I don't know. Maybe first we have to wait for the next resolution in Court."

"And when that would be?" Dryden asked anxiously.

"According to the original timetable, next week we'll know." The lawyer puffed his cigarette with a cadence the dirty cop could no longer tolerate. "Two to three months from that day, we'll have the final decision from the Federal Court."

"Come on! The end of November?" he shouted angrily.

Wells chuckled. "Calm down, Dryden. December most likely. Perhaps at Christmas time".

The tall cop shrugged dispirited. "See? That would be just another perfect time. It would be very painful to kill him at such a meaningful moment after all that he had endured! It would be heartrending, even better than that stupid date!" he laughed nauseatingly.

"But it won't be! You know what Parry wants; you also know what Lancaster wants, Dryden. He's gonna kill him on Saint David's Day and hopefully after he gets into remission, next year, isn't he?"

"Yeah, okay." He nodded and sighed. "But I just can't wait!"

"You'll have to. In the meantime, you'll only have to be well aware of his prognosis and the progression or remission of his cancer as well" Jonathan Wells stopped and frowned. "By the way, how's he doing about it?"

"Well," the cop shrugged, "he's still doing paperwork. He also has regular checkups. Everything seems to be okay, but I know he's not safe and sound yet." he smirked.

"How do you know that?"

"Oh man, you forgot about the genuine and affectionate relationship I developed with his beautiful and delicate wife?" the cop said mockingly, "She's a lovely and innocent woman; you should see her! I conned her into telling me everything. I lied to her, told her that Internal Affairs should be informed about his husband's health, thoroughly, only to protect him," he laughed viciously. "I also warned her that nobody, neither Hutchinson nor Captain Dobey, should know about our meetings and our legitimate 'concerns,' as well. That either way, if they found out it could mean a setback to his psychological progress." Dryden opened his big brown eyes.

"And she bought it...?" Now it was Wells' turn to laugh savagely.

"Of course, she did! Who do you think I am?." He smiled. "I'm a trained Officer, and I have my ways. We have our secret meetings in a place near her house. She tells me everything!." He gestured with his hands. "The stupid and foolish girl's so in love with the man that she can't differentiate between a good cop and a bad one. Besides, she's married to a legend; she thinks that every cop's a Saint, just like her 'Dave'!" he mocked her. Richard Dryden was corrupt and treacherous, and poor Caroline didn't realize the real intentions of the cop. "It'll be in one of those meetings when I'm planning to kidnap her and the baby when the time comes."

"Very resourceful!" Wells finished saying surprised.

"Thank you." the cop answered flattered.

"And when was the last time that you've seen her?"

"Yesterday."

"Good! And how's he doing?"

"Better than I desired! But he still seems to have an issue related to his blood or something like that. Something that makes him weaker than a kitten and, this is the most important thing of all, something that impairs his regular breathing." the police officer was so excited that he stirred his finger on the lawyer's chest, hurting him. Wells grimaced. "She told me that every day he has to use the medication to ease his breathing."

"So you mean we could kill him easily?" the shyster hurried to answer, foretelling to where the lawyer's words were going.

"Yes, as far as I'm concerned his lungs won't ever be 100% again, and that same circumstance messes with his heart."

"That's one hell of an omen!" The attorney said excitedly, and they both laughed. And then Dryden became serious again, he wanted to mean business. "Listen, Wells, you should tell your client how easy it would be to kill him. Parry must understand and abandon his bloody plans. He could die of a heart attack, anytime, only by making him running." He raised his eyebrows trying to explain the simplicity of his master plan.

"I don't think that it would be enough death for the monster, Dryden. He wants to do something more, let's just say, aberrant."

They both laughed.

"Yeah… but you have to convince him that it would be better for the organization to get rid of him in such a natural way. That in that way there wouldn't be any trace to follow."

"Parry doesn't care about traces. The place he's going to go after Starsky dies nobody can follow, Dryden."

*********************S&H***********************

At 10.15, the plane landed. Hutch was waiting for Starsky, Caroline, and the baby at the Airport to pick them up.

Half an hour later the blond saw his buddy behind a pile of suitcases and all the essential gadgets for a baby.

"How was the flight?" he asked his partner.

"Long," Starsky said seemingly exhausted. "I hate this country has to be so wide!"

"Hi, Hutch!" Caroline said while she was bouncing with the baby. She was carrying him in her arms.

The boy had gained so much weight during the last month that Hutch was amazed at how wholesome he looked. Since he had started on solids two months ago, he was 20 pounds already. Day-Day loved to eat smoothies and concoctions; that's why she was also exhausted from carrying him.

Hutch kissed her and the baby spread his little arms to him. The blond had missed them much; Day-Day, especially. The arrival of the baby boy to their lives had been a real blessing.

The couple and their kid had gone to spend Christmas time with Caroline's parents and sisters to her hometown. Rachel Starsky came along to Connecticut too, so the boy was as spoiled as he could be. At the moment he stretched his arms to his Uncle Hutch; Day-Day started moving frantically.

"He wants to show you that he's trying to learn how to walk," a satisfied Starsky said.

"But he's too young yet!" the blond-haired man said surprised.

"He's eight months old, Hutch! He stands all day; at his playpen, at his crib, wherever he is. He is reckless!" Starsky said proudly.

"And dangerous!" Caroline added.

"He's his son, Caroline" Hutch finished knowingly, and they all laughed.

"I'm not joking! I'm serious, he tries to walk all day! Put him on the floor, and you'll see." Starsky challenged his buddy and winked an eye to little Day-Day.

At the time Starsky was talking, gleefully, the baby started to ask for being released.

"Dave! You and your mysterious ability to communicate with him! Now he wants to demonstrate Uncle Hutch how strong his legs are! But I've told you that this is just a reflex, we still have a way to go to see him walking." Caroline scolded him.

"Walking reflex or not, I love when he does it. Try him!" The brunet encouraged his friend to put the baby on the ground.

When Hutch put him on the floor, the child gave his uncle the biggest laughter he could muster in appreciation. Undoubtedly he was Starsky's son...

"Come on, Day-Day! Show your uncle how far you can go!" The instant the soles of their feet touched the surface, he attempted to walk by placing one foot in front of the other at warp speed. "Wow, Day-Day! It's a pity the Olympic Games have ended! You're gonna run even faster than your daddy does!" Hutch said amusingly.

"Did." Starsky cut short, and Hutch raised his eyes to him. "His father did, buddy." the dark-haired man finished sad and pensive.

They all stayed silent.

Hutch had talked to Caroline on the phone when they were away, and she had told him how bad the flu had had Starsky almost in tears during one week back East, so bad he still couldn't overcome the suffering and pain that his lungs were giving him.

"Buddy, wintertime on the East Coast's usually very extreme. You can't take that episode into account." Hutch said trying to explain why his breathing had been so compromised.

"Yeah, blame the weather!" Starsky said dispirited and sighed.

Starsky didn't say anything else and started loading the Baggage cart with all the suitcases.

Caroline broke the silence and changed the subject immediately. She had already talked on the phone with John Murray, and she had made an appointment on Starsky's behalf for the next day, secretly.

********************S&H**********************

It was Wednesday, 23rd January 1985; it was late in the afternoon, and they were in the Squadroom. Starsky was sitting at his desk and was typing a report.

When Hutch arrived from the Cafeteria, he realized how sullen and tired his partner looked.

"Something's wrong, Starsk?" he sat at his desk.

The brunet shook his head no.

"Buddy, cat got your tongue? Why are you so worried?" Hutch insisted lovingly.

Starsky raised and fixed his watery eyes on his friend. He wouldn't try to lie to him anymore. Not again. "I'm scared!", he said.

"Hey!" The flaxen-haired man stood immediately and went to where his buddy was sitting; he crouched beside him. "What happened?"

"Murray called me."

Hutch froze.

One year ago, at that same time of the year, Starsky was on the verge of dying, and he thought the worst. He couldn't help but believe that cancer had returned, that everything had been a dream, a beautiful dream.

"And what - what did Murray say, buddy? Tell me the truth," he asked fearfully.

Starsky shrugged and stood; he seemed to be helpless and weak. Hutch stood too.

"Same as always," the brunet started talking, "the Pet and the CT scan came back clear. He said that the ongoing treatment's still doing fine and that my cancer's still at bay, but my lungs..." he sighed and shook his head. "I won't ever be a real cop again, Hutch! I have no stamina, and I can't get it back. I asked him why I can't run, and he said that maybe... Oh, Hutch!" They hugged.

"Running doesn't define you, Starsk; neither sets out a cop. You're much more than that; you ARE a cop." Hutch lowered his face trying to find Starsky's eyes; still, the brunet didn't dare to look at him.

"I am not and I won't ever be a cop again." He raised his curly head to his friend. "Never again. I can't. I get tired all the time. What kind of a police officer might I be under my circumstances?" He pouted.

"The best. You're still the best, Starsk. You've always been, and you'll always be! You're hands down the best cop here, in Metro! Hey, c'mere!" The blonde-haired man hugged his partner again and talked into his ear. "You gave me a scare, mush brain. But this is nothing but good news!" Hutch smiled relief.

Starsky shook his head and separated.

Next month, at the end of February, the doctors were going to tell him if he was in remission or not. Right after that, he would be able to start his pulmonary rehabilitation by contacting a respiratory therapist. But since his lungs were ill, cancer's remission didn't seem to be enough, neither the solution. Since the last episode back East, when his breathing had been so impaired Starsky had lost the spark of joy, he had always had. And he was scared. What if he never recovers?

"Not so good, nothing will be as it was before. Never." Starsky started pacing like a caged animal, Hutch stayed still. "I'm not a complete man! I'm a sorry excuse of a cop, Hutch. They made sure that I won't be healthy enough to keep on doing my job" he grabbed the report he was working on, "I'm fed up with this shit, with these reports" he tossed the papers with clenched teeth "and... I don't know what am I gonna do."

"But you're doing an excellent job here with this, buddy! And we can still work together!"

"You could've fooled me!" The shorter man said incredulously.

"I'm serious! I've already made a decision, Starsk!" Hutch grimaced in pain, on behalf of his friend's suffering. He grabbed him by his arm trying to make him look at him, "and if you can't go back to the streets with me, we're gonna take the Lieutenant's Exam. We'll always be partners!"

"I don't wanna be a Louie!" He shouted. Starsky sat again. Hutch crouched again next to him, and he held his eyes defiantly. "I don't wanna be out of the streets!"

"Aw, buddy." Hutch hugged him again, and Starsky softened.

"You should go and get yourself a new partner, Hutch. You can't continue to training the rookies, or risking your life every single day out there on the streets while you're waiting for me to come back. You must understand that I won't ever be back, and I must accept that it won't happen. I'd love to be there beside you but neither, I want you to stop doing your job, at least, not because of me!"

"Hey? You think that I wanna be with anyone else but you out there? I rather am on my own, Starsk! We have to think about what to do. Together. We can still work together and decide what to do! If we can't run, then we won't. We don't need to get involved in that kind of investigations either, buddy, not anymore. We can select our cases and minimize our physical involvement."

"Select our cases?" The brunet frowned. "I wouldn't accept to have any privileges above anyone here because of my health. Everybody has the same right that I have to keep safe, and my condition shouldn't be an edge."

"It wouldn't be an edge! We'll find our ways, buddy. We'll find our ways… You know… there's an ancient Chinese proverb that says, 'When the wind of change blows, some people build walls, others build windmills.' Let's just build windmills, Starsk. The only constant in life is change, and we have changed. They have changed us. We're not the same people we were before, but that shouldn't lessen our commitment to our work. We should use our situation in our favor and keep helping people. Maybe we have to choose the appropriate cases, just that, and keep giving the best of us."

"Chances are that we might not be able to choose," Starsky said flatly.

"Why not? We're old enough! We can talk Dobey into choosing the right ones for us. We can do just detective work only. We deserve a little quiet, don't we?" He stood and sat on the desk, took Starsky from his chin tenderly, "I never saw Columbo running, Starsk, and he's been always one of the best."

"Problem is that I don't like raincoats!" he said sarcastically. Starsky raised his thick eyebrows and Hutch smiled and nodded. "I can't smoke either, Hutch, and I hate Columbo's car. It reminds me of yours. I am not Columbo, buddy. I just wanna be myself again, and this is not T.V." He shrugged, "this is my life, and I'm telling you that it's already ruined." he finished dispirited.

"Starsk," Hutch said ruefully.

Starsky stood and went toward the swinging doors; he was in no mood at all.

"It's okay, buddy. Sometimes it happens to me that I feel pessimist, disgruntled. I better go home and pamper Day-Day a little. He's like the sun ray in my life and my main reason to live. At this point, I guess the only one..." Starsky came back, picked his jacket and left the Precinct with his sorrow and his pain.

*************************S&H**************************

"Dick has called me. He has called his wife. Next week they're gonna tell him if he's in remission or not." Wells informed him.

"Next week they're gonna tell him? So we can do it as planned?" Parry said spiritedly.

"The Federal Court won't give the verdict the next week." the lawyer amended himself.

"I don't care about the legal strategy! So far, I don't wanna warn them that I'll be on parole either if that happens. It ain't wise being so evident, Wells. His fag partner would become an expert in surveillance!"

"Too bad. The Court's decision's the only way to get you out of here! I'm sorry we're not gonna make it on time, then. I'm sorry, Mad."

Madoc Parry became furious.

He stood and went to where Jonathan Wells was sitting in front of him. He took the lawyer by the collar and pressed with all his force his Adam's apple. "You should feel more than sorry, dumbass! You listen?" the inmate said menacingly.

He kept pressing and stopped, the moment he realized that the lawyer couldn't breathe. Disgusted at the man's weakness, he smashed his head on the table. He waited for a few minutes until Wells regained his ability to fill his lungs with the air. He adjusted the blue knot of the attorney's tie. The man with the three-piece suit was soundly breathing and frightened. Parry helped him a glass of water and offered it to him.

"I love the way you understand me, Johnny. So, having sorted this discrepancy, how much money will you need to run Plan 2?"

The shyster cleared his rough throat. "It's not a matter of money; It's way too dangerous, Mad. I wouldn't advise you to do it" Jonathan Wells said in a small voice and after composing himself.

"I have no more time. I wanna do it either way. I have no more time available." the Welsh sat again.

Wells looked into Parry's wild eyes. The time had come, and he knew that the man wasn't cheating him. "Okay. Plan 2 it is. I have to talk to Lancaster about it. For starters, we're gonna administer you a drug to provoke a medical indisposition. We're gonna take you to the infirmary. That's the way it's gonna happen. We'll contact Kantoy. I'll need a lot of money to buy his and someone else's will."

"Tell me how much."

"Three grand. Two for the Warden, and fifty for the Infirmary."

"That makes two hundred and fifty. Whom will get the other fifty?"

"I don't work pro bono anymore, Madoc."

Madoc Parry shook his head and laughed. "Okay. Next week, then. On Saint David's day."

The shyster with the thick glasses arrived at his office in downtown. He had an uneasiness he couldn't pinpoint. He took the elevator. It was late in the evening, and the building was desolated, neither his Secretary was there.

He opened the door to his luxurious and modern bunker slowly, and when he got near the phone, he shivered and put his hand over his mouth, thinking. He started pacing around, with a grin on his face. He lit a cigarette. He poured some bourbon.

And finally, called Lancaster and Dryden.

********************S&H*********************

It was 8 PM, Friday the 22nd. February 1985.

The gale from the desert blew stronger than ever that day.

Hot, dry and devilish Santa Ana winds filtered between the mountains through the wilderness and anchored in the shoreline. It was that typical winter day in the Los Angeles Area that curled the hairs and nerves and made the skin even more sensitive to the surface. Starsky was irritable, but not because of the weather.

He was at three hours from the deadline. At 10 AM, he should go to take his final exams at Hope Medical Center, those which would tell him if his cancer had been asleep all this time.

At lunchtime, he surely might have finished, and then he should have to wait.

He knew deep inside him that anything might happen.

He got up early in the morning. He got up because he had not slept. Only he had leaned his head on the pillow; he had not slept a wink. Caroline seemed to have been dozing beside him; she had not been able to sleep peacefully either; just baby Day-Day, the little angel, had given them some respite to their impatience. The boy was an island in the middle of their particular storm and had slept all night long without waking.

In Venice, Hutch was even more nervous.

At about 7.00 am he went for a run as he had done every morning, but this time, he moved further and faster than ever. As if he were physically propelled to get out of his body.

On his road to the shore, he saw many people.

He thought it was strange, then, on a winter morning. He could not take those faces out of his mind. They haunted him, although he didn't know if they were just faces.

Capricious hurricane-force winds had whipped through the beach and had toppled palm trees in its wake and onto electricity lines, knocking out power. It was dark and overcast.

The starry night had come to a gentle close on the lounge chairs on the beach. The shadows of the dawn in the leaden sky and the shy rays of sunlight that filtered through the thick clouds mingled with the treetops and reddened the sand overlooking the bright illusion of hundreds of dangerous wildfires. He didn't know if it was the wind's murmur in the trees or the crashing of the waves against the pier, but he heard sounds. Voices.

Someone was speaking.

He felt like something or someone was chasing him.

And they laughed at him.

He thought he was going to go crazy.

He came back home mentally and physically exhausted.

The phone rang, and he rushed to answer it, bumping into furniture and hurting his leg on his way. He should pick Starsky at 9.30 to take him to the hospital, and he was only one hour away. However, when the phone rang, he startled at the thought that it could be his partner and he didn't know why. It wasn't him.

It was Sam.

"How're you doing?" the doctor asked him.

"I don't know how I feel. Whatever happens today it'll be final." Hutch's voice couldn't hide the acute sense of finiteness he felt.

"Whaddaya mean?" Sam frowned. He was worried about his friend's state of mind. It was of much concern, even more than Starsky's health issues.

"The same as always. This feeling I have, Sam," he sighed, "is still lurking in my mind." his tone sad and tired.

"Which one? May his cancer may come back again?" the doctor asked him concerned.

"May Starsky may come back again," Hutch said discouraged.

There was a long pause until the psychiatrist dared to talk again. He knew about his friend's fragile emotional state.

"Oh, come on Hutch! Stop that crap!" the doctor waited for a reaction that didn't seem to happen. "How long has it been, uh? He won't be involved in any danger! Everything will be all right, you'll see. There are no threats."

Hutch laughed, incredulous. "You can be naive, Sam. There are! Besides, he's weak and vulnerable." He sighed. "He can't run, he can't get shot, he can't fight! And that's too much!" he then stopped and shook his head no, unable to find the words that could explain him. "He's scared to hell, about what his life as a cop could be in the future. Everybody knows how fragile he is. He's an easy target, buddy, and that scares me." Hutch's logic aside from the fact that being impeccable was hard to take down sometimes.

"Everybody forgot about him, man." the doctor tried to convince him.

"You're kidding? Nobody can forget Starsky! And you know that damn well, don't try to convince me otherwise. I won't buy it. The fact is that if Starsky's in remission and I know that he is, I'm gonna have to be even more cautious than I've been before. I'm gonna protect him even more than I've ever done before. He'll want to go back to the streets, yesterday! And that terrifies me. Oh My God! A few days ago he told me that he was going to take a pulmonary therapist to try to be fully reinstated! Do you hear me?"

"I hear you, but well, if Murray says that he can, he will. Besides, why not?"

"Because it's still too dangerous." the blond man almost shouted.

"Come on, Hutch! Please, buddy, help him recover fully and relax a little. You have to enjoy the good news! Please?" The doctor waited again for some time for the answer that never came. Hutch was depressed. He helped him before and he would help him again now, that's why he had called him. "Why are you this worried, you still see those Ghosts?"

"I know they're still out there, Sam. I feel them. Oh My God! I can sense the danger, and I'm scared. The ghosts won't forgive him, us."

"Forgive you? What?" the doctor squinted.

"His survival, our survival. They'll be back and with such vengeance." Hutch shook his head and sighed concerned.

"You suspect of someone in particular?" the doctor's tone lowered a bit. He knew about Hutch's nightmares, and he wanted to help him to get past those fears.

"I don't know. Everybody and nobody. I know the enemy's within, and we couldn't find him yet. Since Gunther, we're trying to find out who he is, maybe who she is. And I'll be damned if this time, he or she wins over me again." he said determinedly.

"I know that you're prepared Hutch, you shouldn't be worried. Nobody can win over you when it comes to Starsky." the doctor encouraged him.

"Except Starsky himself!" He made another seemingly eternal pause and swallowed the lump he had in his throat, "and he happens to be my primary suspect. Starsky and his persistence, his resilience; Starsky, and his stubbornness and his greed for life. He's gonna try to be reinstated, and with that, he's gonna put himself in danger anytime."

"He won't ever change, Hutch. Neither cancer could change his nature, buddy."

"I know, that's why I feel like this; there are so many possibilities out there, so many risks. I can't help but think about them."

"That's why I've called you. I know that you were going to be even more skittish than before, for some time, at least until the moment the doctors give him the results and then after he starts working again. But you should calm down and just stay by his side. That's all you can do."

"Yeah, I know. I wasn't thinking to do anything else. I can't do anything else, Sam."

********************S&H********************

"Well David, we've finished."

"Really? Maybe I can try to surprise Cary then."

"Yeah, It was a good idea to change your medical appointments with that kind old man. Otherwise, you still would have to stay here for two to three more hours."

"Yeah, that's good!"

John Murray was happy. His personal assessment determined that Starsky was physically healthy. Starsky's stats were excellent, and everybody at Hope Medical Center was sure that cancer wouldn't be back in him for a long, long time if any. But then, they had to wait for the Lab results to find any malignant growth or discard it.

They wouldn't allow themselves to make any mistakes.

"You mean this is all for today?"

"I wish it could be for today and for some more time! A long-time David. But yes, let's just say that this is all for today."

"Yeah," Starsky smiled. "I'm pretty optimistic, Doc. I feel good; well, except for the lungs I mean, but I feel reasonably fine."

"And you shouldn't worry, my tough guy. From the clinical examination of your body, the images that we've taken and the latest samples, I'm sure that there's no chance that something might go wrong this time. And about your lungs... I'm sure they will get better soon. Trust me!"

Starsky winced disbelieving of what the doctor had to say about his lungs. "When will I know for sure?" he asked.

"Two days, maybe three. Safer, next Thursday, most probably. Is that good enough?"

"Well..." Starsky shrugged, he was at a loss for words. "Maybe I'm overreacting, but I think that these days are gonna be longer than any in the past and undoubtedly more challenging for me. I'm a bit nervous."

"It's understandable; it's understandable. But believe me, I'm sure everything's okay. No worries." Murray finished.

Suddenly the dark-haired man stayed silent and pensive; the doctor tilted his head and with it made a silent question. Starsky smiled, shook his head and said, "It's nothing, but maybe I should fall asleep now and wake up on the 28th." he shrugged shyly.

"Certainly David. You're three days away to remission or not, but at least, this time, you know that in any case, the 28th February will be your last day."

"I wish it could be, I'm sure it will be."

He left the consulting room with a grin imprinted on his face. The same as Murray had.

Immediately, Hutch stood when he saw them getting out of the doctor's Office. He was waiting for Starsky at the waiting room.

"So the news is good?" Hutch hurriedly asked. He could read the outcome in the doctor and his friend's face, but as always he was anxious and both happy and worried.

"Hold your horses, detective!" Dr. Murray put his hand over Hutch's right shoulder, and he could sense how uptight he was, "Calm down, Hutch. We should wait until next Thursday. Just three days from today. But I can tell you in advance, that for what I've just seen, you should start buying Champagne for the party. Everything seems to swell!" The doctor winked his eye to the blond, who nodded excitedly.

Hutch sighed, released the tension a bit.

"Oh yeah, John, it'll be a blast! I'm planning a big party! Isn't it, buddy?" and he went to hug his friend.

"Yeah. But, I better make a phone call to Caroline first and tell her the news. If I don't hurry, on the 28th instead of going to my party you're gonna go to my funeral."

They all laughed.

**********************S&H***********************

"Good morning, Caroline. Take a seat. Hello, beautiful baby!" Richard Dryden caressed the baby's cheek, and the innocent child gave him one of his best smiles. "You grew bigger than I expected!" He said.

It had been a cheap deal, the old man who volunteered to change his appointment with the brunet cost him only a few bucks. Starsky's overtaking in his turn at the Hospital's consultation would give him enough time to scare the cop and even take him straight to hell. Or heaven, what gives...

Caroline smiled.

She liked the man. She felt overwhelmed and grateful for his caring interest in Starsky's health and recovery. She would do whatever to protect her husband even lie to him, just as Dryden had told her and asked her to do, and she did. Even if it came to hide from Dave her meetings with the black cop.

Despite her feelings and fears, she wanted that Starsky would be able to get back to the streets. She knew that nothing less than that would be enough for him to feel complete and healthy, and he loved him that much.

She would do everything for her husband.

Many times in the past she thought if it would be good to keep her secret from him, but she was sure that being so close acquaintance with the black man would grant her the so needed intimacy to pull any string when the time comes just in case, and Starsky might want to be reinstated.

She was sure that the man couldn't deny her anything.

Richard Dryden was very affectionate. She could not understand what Starsky had told her about him. She didn't believe that the guy hated her husband. It was not true, Dave was wrong. Dryden had shown countless times how worried he was about her husband's health, but she knew Starsky damn well, how stubborn he could be, so she didn't push the subject.

That's why, and the man from Internal Affairs had coincided with her, she never had told Dave about her encounters with him.

She decided to meet Dryden while Starsky had gone to Hope; she knew that it would take him at least until midday to finish his tests.

"How's your husband doing?" he asked the innocent woman politely.

"Well, compared with his last pretty difficult time on the East Coast, he's doing better. He's making little progress," she said with a radiant smile.

"_You are a stupid and beautiful girl,"_ the renegade cop thought. "What happened on the East Coast?" he asked seemingly interested.

"Oh, it was terrible! Poor Dave, the weather was so cold that he caught the flu and well," she shook her head.

"Oh yeah, winter in the East Coast is extreme! I might not survive it being a valley man as I am." the cop tried to be kind with the woman.

"A valley man?" she asked him curiously.

"Oh, a Phoenician. I was born in Phoenix," he said.

"Hot weather."

"The hottest!" they both smiled. "But Starsky's from New York, isn't he? He should be accustomed to cold weather." the black man tried to reason.

"He's living here for the past twenty-something years… he forgot about snow as much as I forgot. I'm from Connecticut, and the only thing I don't miss is the cold ocean climate! Besides, you know about his weak lungs and all." she said concernedly.

"Oh yeah, of course, his lungs. So no changes with his breathing troubles?" Dryden shrugged and sighed, worriedly. She shook her head no, and he stretched his arm to comfort her, "But I'm sure he'll recover." he responded to himself likewise.

"He's recovering! Only the worst thing of all is that his lungs are the best they can get. And he knows it, they won't be much better, and that's the problem. You know Starsky!" She smiled at the cop in complicity and sighed. "I'm worried that he could get hurt. He's as stubborn as a mule. I'm sure he will put so much effort in his rehabilitation that it scares me."

Dryden shrugged. "Your husband's unstoppable, lady. He's not gonna get hurt."

Caroline smiled proudly.

Dryden also smiled, but it was not for pride.

"When is he going to meet his oncologists, by the way? Uh..." he hesitated, the girl didn't seem to understand why his repeated interest in the topic again. "We need to know because we have to develop a strategy for his full reinstatement with the Committee, do you remember?." he tried to hide his real intentions.

She sighed. "Oh, Yes! Well, today, right now. He's at Hope Medical Center right now, he is taking his last Pet Scan and CT Scan, and they're gonna tell him next Wednesday or Thursday perhaps whether he's in remission or not."

"Thank Goodness! So far, we're on schedule. That's good news!" Dryden said pretending to be entirely happy although he was secretly excited only at such coincidence between the dates.

"On schedule? What do you mean?" she frowned.

"Well, I assume that you're preparing a party, aren't you?" he said wanting to take the lie to the truth and smiled, "Think that you're gonna be on schedule to celebrate, that's what I meant."

"Oh yes! We're gonna have a party at the house on Thursday. I'm sorry that I can't invite you. Dave wouldn't like it!" She was troubled by her unkindness, but she knew that Richard Dryden wouldn't be welcome in her home.

"Oh, don't worry Caroline, I'm aware that Starsky still holds grudges against me. The most important thing's that he's recovered and that we're still on time. That's great."

She shrugged; she didn't understand and squinted her eyes. "When you mean on time... something I should be worried about?"

"Oh no, no, not at all! I'm talking about the Tier People. Paperwork! I've been talking to them yesterday morning and everything seems to be okay with the reinstatement committee related to the dates, but you know that temporary light-duty can only last a few months, and we already exceeded the terms, that's all." he said intriguing.

"Yeah, well if there's any problem, I mean..." She sounded desperate. He caught her hand in his, reassuringly and winked. She smiled. "Yeah, I hope he'll be all right!" she said relieved.

"He sure will be! I'll make sure of that. I want to help your husband, Caroline. He's the best! And I want him back in the Force as soon as possible. In fact, we need him!" He checked the time on his wristwatch pretended to be late for something. "Oh for Christ's sake, look at this! I forgot! It's 10 o'clock! Wait a minute, lady. I have to make a phone call that I can't postpone, okay? Stay put here, will you? I'll be back."

Dryden stood and went to the counter.

*********************S&H*********************

"Come on Cary, Come on! Pick up the phone!" Starsky was anxious. It was ten in the morning. "Where the hell is she? She was supposed to be at home waiting for me to call her and tell her how I'm doing. Come on! Come on."

The men were at the Hospital's Lobby; Starsky was tapping his fingers in rapid succession over the telephone's glass booth anxiously. "Come on!"

"Hey pal, maybe she went to do an errand, what else? Chill out, Starsk! Don't forget that she didn't expect us to have finished here until lunchtime."

"Yeah, you are right, I forgot!" he scratched his nose with his free hand and hung up the phone. "Let's go."

*********************S&H*********************

"Jose? I have to ask you a favor. I wanna surprise a friend. Would you call the Police station and give him a message on my behalf?"

The man didn't say anything. He didn't like the supercilious cop in front of him. He just stared at him in silence and kept drying some glasses with a cloth. He was thinking about what to say.

"I've got dinero for you, Jose." Dryden insisted tempting.

"Your Spanish has improved ostensibly, lately." the bartender said.

"So will your finances. What about One C-Note?"

Jose got surprised at the amount of money offered and smiled. "Well, I think your buddy... He's a very treasured friend of yours, isn't he? Must be a V.I.P! What about Two hundred, then?"

Richard Dryden shook his head and took his wallet from the inner pocket of his tailored dark gray cashmere suit.

He gave the man Two hundred dollars.

*********************S&H*********************

"You shouldn't get worried, Starsk, maybe she needed to go somewhere else! Maybe you run out of diapers or something like that." Hutch tried to calm Starsky to no avail.

"Yeah, I know, but… it's just that... well, uh," he sighed.

"Do you wanna go to the house first and see for yourself before we head to the Precinct?" Hutch asked him concernedly, realizing how bothersome his friend had become.

"Nah, maybe she's gone to the grocery or something, you're right. I'm excited that's all." And he smiled more relaxed than before.

They were in Hutch's Datsun, and the brunet was riding shotgun. Though Starsky was a little bit jittery, the ride was peaceful until the moment the radio crackled.

"Zebra Three, Zebra Three." The voice of dispatch came into the cockpit. Starsky raised his eyebrows and shrugged. He picked up the radio.

"Morning! Rise and shine, Mildred. Zebra Three's responding."

"Starsky! I'm so happy I'm listening to you. When will you come back to the streets?"

"Hopefully soon, honey. You missing me?"

She laughed, she actually missed the daily banter with the brunet counterpart of the duo. "Oh! you can sure bet on that! Besides you, I miss the Torino and mostly, talking to Hutch, babe." she mocked him.

"Hey, Mildred! What's that? So to speak, you like my partner better than me? I didn't know it! After all these years? Oh, you're breaking my heart in two, schweetheart." he said pretending to be heartbroken.

"Well, you're already married handsome! What do you want me to do? Besides, by all means, you're harder to read than he is."

"The Brooklyn accent's for forever. It leaves an indentation hard to disguise in someone's speech," he laughed. "Whaddaya want anyway, beauty?"

"I've got a message for you, Starsky. A man called saying that your Caroline and your baby were waiting for you to go and pick them up."

"What? Are they waiting for me? Where?" the dark-haired man scowled.

Hutch looked at Starsky. He didn't like the way his partner reacted. "What's wrong, buddy?" the blond asked him softly.

Starsky gave him a dirty look; he didn't understand the message.

"Who? What, what, where am I supposed to go? Where did he say, Mildred?" he repeated.

"He didn't say, Starsky. Neither who he was nor where to go. He only said that his name was David and that you should better hurry up because they were tired of waiting for you and, either way, they were going to leave you alone. That was the message."

"What was his name?" he almost shouted.

"Hey, do not yell at me! David. He said he was such David," Mildred answered him upset.

"David what?"

"He didn't say anything else, Starsky," she repeated.

"What?" he was exasperated, "And you didn't ask him!?" Now he was shouting indeed.

"Starsky! He said that you already knew where they are and who he is and what is it going to happen if you don't show up on time! He only said that you had to go and pick them up and asked me to remind you that you should not be late! I'm sorry, that was the message." she finished visibly uncomfortable.

"He said his name was David?" He looked at his buddy and said calmer; suddenly his baby's name meant something different.

Starsky put the cherry light over the roof. Since Hutch was heading south on Harbor Freeway, he made a sudden maneuver to the exit ramp to his right onto West Slauson Ave, turned left and continued straight to Santa Monica.

"Put me through Captain Dobey, Mildred, please, I'm sorry. Thanks."

"Okay Starsky, but I'm telling you I rather talk to Blondie next time."

He didn't pay attention to his fellow officer's words.

"What's going on, Starsky? You've ended up your checkup?" The voice from Captain Dobey broke the deadly silence that took residence inside the car after dispatch's call.

"That doesn't matter now, Cap'n. Please, go and check if Madoc Parry is still at Folsom."

"What?!" Dobey shouted into the receiver, "What about Parry? What's wrong with him? Starsky?"

"Caroline and Day-Day, Cap'n! I think that someone has kidnaped them."

********************S&H**********************

"I'm sorry! But I had to talk to someone. It was imperative. Do you wanna drink another coffee?" he offered.

"No, no, it's okay. Thank you, Richard." She started grabbing her shopping bag and the baby's pacifier. "I wanna get back home now. Dave's gonna call me anytime, and I wanna be there. I'm a little bit anxious. It's gonna be a difficult three days until next Thursday." She sighed, suddenly she started feeling a bit uneasy.

"But you said that he shouldn't be back home until lunchtime. What's the hurry?"

"Yes, but I rather am at home, just in case something turns out." She shrugged, nervously. She stood; he also stood.

"Are you riding your car? I can give you a ride" Dryden asked her chivalrously. He knew very well that the woman never drove her car to any of their appointments.

"No, I'm on foot! But, I just wanna take a walk; you know, sidetrack a little from the next hours and get some fresh air to calm down my anxiety and be able to be strong for him. I'm sure I'll have to mollify Dave until next Thursday" She shook her head and put a tender smile. "That's why I have to go." She started clothing the child in the stroller. "I wanna be at home when he calls. But don't worry, I love going back via the Ocean Front Walk, and so does Day-Day. Besides, look at the sky, it's a lovely day."

"But It's winter!" the cop said cunningly.

"You forgot I'm from Connecticut, 'valley man'?" she winked and laughed amusingly, "this ain't winter!"

"Okay, but still your house's too far from here." he insisted.

"No! Just half an hour. I'm tired to do nothing, and we love the scenery."

Dryden was incredibly satisfied with his previous investigation.

He knew for sure that Caroline was going to get back home walking and that it would take her more than half an hour to arrive. That would be more than enough time for Starsky to drive crazy, and maybe even to make him suffer an indisposition.

He had 10 minutes to go to Parry's apartment in front of the Beach House; the one he rented while he impersonated Ian Fletcher. He had the keys to that apartment, Wells had given them to him. He was going to watch the show with his binoculars; he was sure that Starsky would arrive at his house, soon.

********************S&H*********************

"Cary! Babe! Please, please! Damn, Hutch, what if she's not here?"

He opened the door. Starsky started hyperventilating; he searched for the woman and his son at the Beach house, but they were nowhere to be seen.

"Calm down, buddy. Relax, be calm. You're gonna hurt yourself!"

At the moment he was trespassing the kitchen to the deck, the phone rang. They hooked their eyes, and Starsky rushed to answer. Their respirations were too loud to stand any more silence.

"H'lo" Starsky picked up the phone, frantically. "H'lo, who's this?"

"Starsky? You see they're not there, nor anywhere." The voice laughed viciously. "Listen to me, cop, check your time with me, it's 10.35, isn't it?. You got 5 minutes to go running to Entrada Drive, you know? Alone. The phone will be ringing when you arrive at Patrick's Roadhouse; you know the joint?"

"I, uh..." Starsky hesitated, "I can't..." He was agitated, and his eyes were fixed on Hutch, who was asking him with his eyes too.

"Yes, you can, pig," the voice said huskily, "you can! It's less than a mile. Now move your sorry ass and run, alone, and don't play any tricks. And Starsky! Do it fast! Now, you've only got four and a half minutes."

Starsky threw the receiver onto the floor and started running through the deck to the Ocean Front Walk. Hutch began pursuing him while Starsky shouted at him to stay put and wait for him to come back. "Don't follow me, Hutch! Remember Collandra!" was his last scream.

Hutch froze at the place.

He remembered vividly the frantic run he had undertaken that day through the alleys of Bay City when the kidnappers called him on the phone giving him clues to follow. He was scared.

He was afraid of what he knew and what he did not understand yet.

He didn't know where Starsky was going, and he couldn't follow.

But worst of all, he was sure that Starsky wouldn't be up to such a hard run.

The blond collapsed on the deck while his friend's figure disappeared into the ocean's mist and after some time he went back to the house to call the Precinct.

Richard Dryden had already his 16x52 Leupold binos on his hand.

He started following Starsky's run from the window. He would know the exact moment when the brunet would leave the Ocean Front Walk to the Traffic Light at Entrada Dr. He would make the phone call at that same instant.

He was elated by the sight of Starsky running frantically toward his destiny.

Jealous, also at such a display of bravery.

"Damn, you are tough, Starsky!" He said aloud with the binos on his hands.

Starsky's heart was pounding in his chest. It was eight blocks to the joint the man on the phone had told him about. He was running faster than he could; he didn't give a damn about his sick lungs or the lack of air.

Five minutes later he crossed PCH to Entrada Drive and entered Patrick's Roadhouse.

The phone was ringing.

"H'lo," he showed the bartender his badge and collapsed to the floor with the receiver in his hand. "H'lo?" he repeated in just a puff.

The harsh voice took a while to answer and then, preceded of a sick laugh said, "Good, pig! You did well! Are you tired? You don't sound very swell!"

"Where are they? Now, you tell me, sucker!" Starsky shouted desperately.

"Hey, don't be rude! Calm down, Starsky. You should take care of yourself. By the way, how's your cancer doing, uh?" He cracked a laugh, disgustingly. "You're a fucking miracle, asshole!. You're a deathless man that never seems to be destroyed. I never thought that you would have been able to get to the phone on time, let alone to survive cancer; and now here you are." He shook his head, astonished. "Yes, you're a fucking marvel, man! I hate you for that!" The man cursed disgusted. Richard Dryden was flabbergasted. In fact, he secretly admired him. "What about another run? Uh? Do you think that you're up to it?" he ended menacing, he couldn't lose his demeanor; he should go on with his plan.

"Where's my baby, you son of a bitch? Now you tell me!" Starsky said disconsolately.

"Relax! I'll say but at the proper time. By the way, Day-Day's a beautiful boy, and she's a very attractive woman, you know that? But I was wondering, how come a smart man like you get married to such an innocent lady? Did you ask yourself that question? Oh, love can be foolish too!"

"What did you do to them? I'm begging you, please... please? Where are they?"

"Oh man, you're breaking my heart now." He blew satisfied "Perhaps you can get back to the house? See if she's arrived there? What about that? What do you think?" Starsky's respirations were the only sounds that traveled through the wire; the dark-haired man had lost the ability to talk. "In five minutes, Starsky. The phone will ring in five minutes at your house. You beg for that to happen, okay? You've got five minutes again if you are late… oops! Who knows?" he laughed and turned into a serious tone suddenly, "Run Starsky, run. Do it for their sakes!" and the man hung up the phone.

Starsky started running again, this time along PCH, straight to his house.

He couldn't breathe, his vision blurred, and he staggered more than once.

But he ran.

It was 10.48 AM.

Hutch was walking in circles when his friend entered the house.

They hugged each other.

More than a hug Hutch went to catch his friend before he crumbled to the ground, exhausted. Starsky couldn't catch his breath neither he could voice any word. He stumbled once again and crawled to the phone. Hutch followed.

But the phone didn't ring. It didn't ring.

Starsky started crying.

"Buddy, what's going on? Where's she, Starsk? Where's the baby? Oh, come on buddy. Calm down, please. I don't know what to do. Starsk, please buddy, talk to me." the blond man ran over him and could all but hear his heart pounding out of his chest

At that very moment, the French window to the deck opened, and Hutch drew his gun to the door.

_To be continued..._


End file.
